As the 2015 Self Assessment deadline approaches, freelancers up and down the country are at their wits’ end.

To sooth aching minds, we’re turning to prose.

Pour yourself a coffee and relax for a bit. Then close this browser tab and, for goodness’ sake, get filing.

poetry

‘Twas the last day of January and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,
I should have been tucked up all cosy in bed,
Instead I was thinking “I’d rather be dead”.

All crashing off caffeine and dark with dismay,
My Self Assessment was due the next day,
Go Word, go Excel, and go, balance sheet,
I never again want to see a receipt.

I promised that this year I’d do it on time,
But once more I sit in my own guilt and grime,
Adding, subtracting and barely awake,
Knowing that one hundred quid is at stake.

O powerful tax man please spare me this plight,
I swear all my profits are clear and in sight,
I honestly haven’t been taking the piss,
The only thing I’ve been avoiding is this.

Image by Alex Eflon