My sense X I lost

I know one sense that is X
Call it anything that makes my life
Other than the five scripts
that are unwritten;
and I talk of the fifth
the one that is final. Col
(My own short form,
for financial column in a newspaper).
See I raise and fall only by it,
come what may –
for that gives my nine parts
out of my cent--
to the last cent
call it my returns
or Karma till my last call,
perhaps even beyond--
to my children, if lucky they are.
So I need to push it
and sometimes pull it ,
that my sense X,
Like a donkey
on a seesaw routine.
(Don't ask how much I lost!)