The Ledger of Worth

Today's lament, a whispered, bitter plea: "No money, no worth," they chant for all to see. A man's true value, now a digit on a screen, More than her earnings, the sum must intervene. "What do you bring?" a chilling, stark demand, As if the soul could fit within their hand. For "bodies," they declare, "are all we hold so dear," And in that chilling echo, doubts appear. What then divides the lover from the trade? When every touch, a financial ledger made? Seven figures whispered, a captivating gleam, Yet zero waits, within their hollow dream.