With thanks to accountant Emily Coltman, Director of Accounts in English Ltdfor this poem which I think reveals rather a lot about her life!
When you’re a child of say four or five,
Longing to grow up and be really alive,
You think about what you might do with your life –
“I’ll be a teacher” – “A fireman” – “A wife” –
“I’ll be a doctor” – “And I’ll be a nurse” –
“I’ll be a bad man” – “And I’ll be much worse”.
But tell me, has anyone heard a child say,
“I want to be an accountant one day”?
To sit in an office and struggle with numbers,
To be on the end of a client’s endless grumbles,
They simply don’t see why they MUST pay that VAT –
“My mate down the pub says he doesn’t pay that!”
Ticking and bashing through audits and recs,
Removing the claim for a client’s new specs,
Scrolling through spreadsheets till you’re fit to scream -
A set of correct books? That’s just in a dream!
To have to keep patience with HMRC
When they bring in new rules that then change endlessly,
When they don’t answer letters and as for the phone –
“Forget it accountants, no, you’re on your own!”
Still, mustn’t complain, I could do a lot worse
(Like trying to write more of this awful verse!)
But I’m sure I’ll never hear my nephews say,
“I want to be an accountant one day”.