The year I wrote this poem was the first but not last time I used a CPA at tax time.
Who is this I see
Flopped flat upon the floor?
Can’t take it any more
Papers scattered all around
Once neat files that can’t be found
Pencils broken, erasers chewed
Coffee gone, no speck of food
What poor creature can this be?
Was it only yesterday
Your bloodshot eyes and quivering lips
Smugly offered other folks tips?
“Just organize well in advance
Leave no detail to chance
Calm and confident ever.”
“Are those the words I heard you say?”
Sweat dripped from her fair brow
“I opened up the tax form book
And took an extra careful look
Then I could only scream, not speak
A pixie put my instructions in Greek
So here I lie
I’m about to die
I need a dose of your know-how!”
“My friend, I can’t resist teasing you
But I speak Greek, I’m a CPA
Who’s survived many a tax time day
I heard you yelp
I’m here to help
Did you really think I’d let you down?
I’d rather have you smile than frown
I’ll handle the Infernal Revenue.”
I turned on my trusty computer once more
Filled out that old Form 1040
Assembled schedules B, D, and E
Cleaned up her mess
Now have to confess
My glee that she’s not to be dunned
‘Cause I plan to help her spend her refund
Why, what are friends for?