Amil, the finance manager, stout and round, With a voice quite urgent, urgent, resound. His head shines bright, where hair once grew, In finance, terms are jumbled, misconstrued. "Right now," he chants, in meetings he leads, Yet numbers elude him, like scattered seeds. In suits of grandeur, his presence bold, A jester in realms where truth unfolds. In chaos and mirth, his legend sprawls, A figure of humor in finance halls. For despite his bluster—a tale untold, He keeps the spirit light, though clueless and bold.