We talk about taxes on this day.
We talk and then of course we pay.
And every year it’s getting worse.
I’ve come to think of it as a curse.
The curse is an abomination on mankind.
And of course we see the elite are blind
to the pain and suffering that goes on.
They won’t be satisfied until we’ve gone
into the poor house without a prayer.
And while we’re there they’ll sit and stare
at the piles of money that’s not enough.
And we sheep will never call their bluff
and take a stand and say “no more.”
No more taxes, no more theft.
We refuse to pay. There’s nothing left.
We are many.
They are few.
And yet we allow them to do what they do.
They will never ever have enough.
Like the big bad wolf they’ll huff and puff
and scare the daylights out of the weak.
So April 15th is here again
and taxation in America will never end.
Edwina Reizer's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (April 15th by Edwina Reizer )
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