THE TAX POEM

Usually today being Friday we would be celebrating the upcoming weekend and the end of a long hard work week (TGIF), but when April 15th falls on Friday... we have a whole different perspective.  Although the tax deadline has been extended until Monday - April 18th... it casts a dark shadow over the festivities planned for the weekend.  
I praise God for living in America (the greatest country in the world) yet, 
I do wish they would allow us to keep a little more of what we earn.  Guess this is my attempt to find some humor in the agony that lies ahead for checks #8412 and #8413 in my checkbook!

Tax his land, tax his wage,
Tax his bed in which he lays.
Tax his tractor, tax his mule,
Teach him taxes is the rule.

Tax his cow, tax his goat,
Tax his pants, tax his coat.
Tax his ties, tax his shirts,
Tax his work, tax his dirt.

Tax his chew, tax his smoke,
Teach him taxes are no joke.
Tax his car, tax his grass,
Tax the roads he must pass.

Tax his food, tax his drink,
Tax him if he tries to think.
Tax his sodas, tax his beers,
If he cries, tax his tears.

Tax his bills, tax his gas,
Tax his notes, tax his cash.
Tax him good and let him know
That after taxes, he has no dough.

If he hollers, tax him more,
Tax him until he's good and sore.
Tax his coffin, tax his grave,
Tax the sod in which he lays.

Put these words upon his tomb,
"Taxes drove me to my doom!"
And when he's gone, we won't relax,
We'll still be after the inheritance tax.

~AUTHOR UNKNOWN~

If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray , and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.  (2 Chronicles 7:14)