06 July, 2009

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

Tax his tears.

Tax his car,

Tax his gas,

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 some more,

Tax him till

He's good and sore.

Then tax his coffin,

Tax his grave,

Tax the sod in

Which he's laid.

Put these words

Upon his tomb,

"Taxes drove me to my doom..."

When he's gone,

Do not relax,

Its time to apply

The inheritance tax

3 comments:

Yohan said...

That just makes me mad.

Amy said...

I LOVED it Sariah! So true! Made me chuckle at the end!

Hannah said...

omigosh... that sounds horrible