Want to see a magic trick?

I take your numbers and turn them into others,

Like a toddler counting for the first time,

Truth is relative.

Close enough, good enough.

I am the high wire act,

Balancing your books.

Every entry matched with its counterpart.

The Doctor solving problems,

That you don’t know about,

In ways you don’t understand.

Jack of all trades,

Knowing enough to be dangerous.

The power to make or break you.

Bending pliable rules with my mind.

“There is no spoon Neo.”

I sit in my ergonomic throne,

Sending countless digital ravens,

Bringing the houses together,

Devoting my life to this man made construct,

Saving you “tax” to get you more “money”,

Time I could spend making memories,

So my girls can instead.

And so you can buy _things_.

RIP

Here lies an accountant.

Died chained to his desk.

The kool-aid was poisoned.