Here's a little poem; try to guess "what I am." I accept every answer as long as the explanation is satisfying.
You can't touch me as you like
I can be a cushion for your mind
But too often I'm a spike
So I'm not always that kind
Sadly, many try to make use of me
Seeing me as part of their tools -
Oh, they are the biggest fools !
No matter what you do -
In the end, you will be mine
Which is perfectly fine
As long as I am accepted by you
Dramas and songs all centred 'round me
Tons of myths are based on me
A countless amount; a pointless sea.
Nothing of this can describe me
They call me complicated
Few even want me hated
It's hard to prove me wrong
unless you try really strong
Between others, I can't be spotted
Except for them revealing me
I start abruptly
Soon out of control
Misunderstood by the masses
Abused by the few
People call me their friend,
Some even say I was godsend -
But too quickly I come to an end.