Harken, to Publicis' valiant tale clear,
A fleet of wealth riding the ebb of year.
They now foresee their loot to grow,
By five percent, a divine river's flow.

To the tale of HelloFresh, now we shift,
Their shares doth sink, caught in a rift.
Customers flee, their future in doubt,
Despite expectations of a rich dividend sprout.

Now to Givaudan, their earnings shrink,
Lower volumes, their ship's on the brink.
Income and earnings drop from their peak,
A storm has struck; outlooks bleak.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur