Sensual or Sensible?

I'm a pot of gold
And out of luck.
The people,
Take me serious.
Rushing to be,
A friend of mine.
So others can see me.
By their side.

They'll push through,
All the crowds I draw.
If I run, they'll corner me,
Against a wall.

They are loyal,
They are true.
If I obey and conquer you.

They try to keep me all alone,
So they can have me,
For themselves.
The people I want to be around,
Are pushed away,
Put on a shelf.

The battle for good company,
For someone,
Who satisfies my needs.
Avoiding the vultures,
That come to feed.
On corpses they keep torturing.