COWBOY POETRY: The Dreaded Tax

Bryce Angell is a cowboy poet. Angell was raised on a farm/ranch in the St. Anthony, Idaho area with approximately 75 head of horses. Horses remain an important part of Angell's life. Angell shares his poetry with Cache Valley Daily every Friday.

The dreaded day’s approaching.  I ain’t got the cash to burn.  Seems every year’s a holdup when I file my tax return.

My program always tells me, “Get your refund on the way!”  Guess it’s got a dang poor memory. Every year I’ve had to pay.

I sat there four long hours concentrating on the screen.  I punched in all the numbers.  This year was the worst I’ve seen.

I swear I get so danged annoyed when only half way through.  The software says, “A refund will be coming back to you.”

But when I press the final key, the dollars show in red!  It says I owe a bundle.  Will I ever get ahead?

Now, I absolutely know that we should pay our share of tax.  But, do the tax collectors think we all drive Cadillacs?

‘Cuz the taxes from my last paycheck made more than just a dent.  They taxed my overtime at dang near fifty three percent.

So, where is the incentive to put in some extra time?   When the tax man has his hand out, dang sure ought to be a crime.

Our taxes are collected by the monstrous IRS.  Is there a correlation to the letters ASS?

I’m just a country boy who doesn’t understand the law.  But, paying too much income tax just sticks right in my craw!

I’ve witnessed tax evaders who decided not to pay.  I wonder how they felt as they were cuffed and led away.

Conformity is easier when trying to get along.  The over-powered IRS says, “We are never wrong!”

So, I’ll pay my shakedown money, rather trade for forty whacks.  But each year I’ll do my griping when I pay my income tax.

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