To a promotion, you, their blinding client,
The eyes that caught your look desired to lever;
Still, on one market we were not reliant,
And where the world is good we chide it never.
Instead we redeployed the whole division
Till second sight became our secret sauce;
The body’s heart thus beat with corporate vision,
And minting prophecy, was blindness boss.
Blind eyes yet dread a public exit’s roadshow;
Dead spheres, therefore, make bankers’ living sight
Returns betokening not IPO:
We’re always unreceptive and polite.
Yet cash flow little salves that corporate soul
Which burns to sell at last and cede control.