In columns and in ledgers, he kept the numbers fair.
His spreadsheets were a marvel, each figure in its place,
With formulas like poetry, in this his special space.
Sadly his life was little more than balance sheets and sums,
No tales of grand adventures, no travel to far-off lands.
He left behind a legacy of numbers neat and wide,
For though he never truly lived, his ledger never lied.
So here's to this accountant, in his world of black and white,
Where every penny mattered, from morning until night.
He may not have embraced the world, or danced with joy and glee,
But in the world of numbers, he found his symphony.
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