It was a funny Tax Poem WhatsApp forward that I got today that got me thinking about the number of stuff that we buy that are taxed. The coffin services, included. Here is a quick one for you to laugh and ponder over how much we pay the tax.
The Union Budget was presented yesterday which focused on various sectors and reforms, however gave little or nothing to the salaried middle class tax payer who bears the cost of 99% of the people in this nation.
Arun Jaitely was coy enough to mention that Business’ taxation is far less than the amount received from salaried tax payers, to further the furstration. I hope the small and medium scale business who avoid paying both direct and indirect taxes are brought under the tax net and salaried class be relieved from taxes.
The Tax Poem
Tax his land, Tax his bed,
Tax the table At which he’s fed.
Tax his tractor, Tax his mule,
Teach him taxes Are the rule.
Tax his work, Tax his pay,
He works for peanuts Anyway!
Tax his cow, Tax his goat,
Tax his pants, Tax his coat.
Tax his ties, Tax his shirt,
Tax his work, Tax his dirt.
Tax his tobacco, Tax his drink,
Tax him if he tries to think.
Tax his cigars, Tax his beers,
If he cries, then tax his tears.
Tax his car, Tax his gas,
Find other ways To tax his ass.
Tax all he has Then let him know,
That you won’t be done till he has no dough.
When he screams and hollers Then tax him more,
Tax him till he’s good and sore.
Then tax his coffin, Tax his grave,
Tax the sod in Which he’s laid.
Written by someone anonymous, this poem pretty much sums up my experience as a tax payer.