Tax Time is Most Taxing
I don’t like doing taxes. I’d rather eat a rat.
I saved all my receipts for sure but don’t know where they’re at.
I should have printed up reports and put them on a spindle,
for now I cannot find out what I’ve taken in from Kindle
or Amazon. Their tax sites are really just a maze.
After roaming them for hours, I fear I’m in a haze.
Money spent for doctors and dentists must be here.
I’ve even asked a Ouija Board that says I’m getting near
to where they remain hidden under piles of other papers.
If I lived in another age, I know I’d have the vapors.
The time that I have left is surely waning and not waxing.
And things just keep on getting worse–for tax time is most taxing.
Next year I will do better. I’ll start out nice and early
and tax time will be easier and I will be less surly.
I’ll pat myself upon the back for files filled with slips
alphabetical and neat–no coffee spills or rips.
I will know to the penny what I spent on medicine.
I’ll save up all my dentist bills, fastened with a pin.
All my insurance payments and social security
will be neatly filed–correct from A to Z.
But as to this year’s taxes, I fear I’m out of luck.
I shake my head over the forms and murmur “What the – – – -?
I do not want to do this. I fear I’m in a mess.
I want to write a letter to the I.R.S.
giving them my bank account and telling them my pin,
for I fear my patience is growing rather thin.
“Just take whatever cash you need and leave enough for me
to live upon ’til I expire in two thousand-five-three.”
Instead, I go back to my desk to sort another pile.
Please don’t e-mail, phone or text. I’m busy for awhile!!
The Prompt: Set It To Rights–Think of a time you let something slide, only for it to eat away at you later. Tell us how you’d fix it today.