Herman loved numbers.
He dreamed digits in his slumbers.
As a child no larger than an elf,
He loved things smaller than himself
As a man he studied actuarial science,
A field to which he gave perpetual reliance.
He predicted his death the day his teeth fell out,
The day after his final treadmill workout.
He would not spend more time on bodily health,
For he died on the day he outran his wealth.
His wife discovered him dead, “Herman, what happened?”
When she found his obituary on a paper napkin.
He wrote, PS save the spreadsheets!
But she burned them all, along with his bed sheets.
The newspaper printed four paragraphs on Herman,
But readers flipped the page after reading the lead in,
“Herman loved numbers his whole life,
He leaves behind his calculator and his wife.”