One for the books… 

Today was taxing, that’s no lie,
beneath a sunny paperwork sky.
Receipts in piles, forms in stacks,
numbers might cause heart attacks.

Coffee cooled, my patience fled,
dreams of refunds dashed instead.
April fifteenth, you sneaky thing—
with every form, you make me sing…

A tune of stress, a wry ballet,
of “Where’d that W-2 go, anyway?”
But now it's filed, the deed is done,
a taxing day, but I’ve almost won.

(Just don’t audit me, IRS, okay?)