Each day a different spreadsheet takes the floor,
Each one a unique dancer in the financial lore.
One, named Net Worth, in a low-cut satin gown,
Elegantly tracking numbers going up and down.
In her high heels, Asset Allocation takes the stage,
Balancing my portfolio with wisdom and sage.
Underneath, a thong, a daring choice,
Taking the risks that want to make me rejoice.
Then there is Cash Flow, a sight to behold,
If inflow in tops outflows, when I am old.
A real looker, when the balance is right,
Pumping financial decisions, day and night.
Amidst them all, one sits all alone,
In a black dress, a presence of its own.
A sickle for a necklace, a cold delight,
Counting down the seconds, from morning to night
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