Gerald Bosacher, Pennies</head><body><center><center><img src=http://www.saviodsilva.com/p1.gif border=0 alt=Saviodsilva></center><hr color=3C00FF size=4><br><font size=4 face=arial><b><a href=20.htm>Gerald Bosacher</a></b></font><br><center><img src=http://www.saviodsilva.net/poem/a/1.JPG border=0 alt=Poem></center><br><font size=3 face=arial><b>Pennies</a></b></font></center><blockquote><blockquote><p align=left><font face=arial size=2><b>A penny for each spiteful word<br>was dues I pledged and owed.<br>In sin tax jar, those coins were sowed,<br>when word aggression had occurred<br>great copper piles, by guilt interred.<br>Passed years increased that penance load<br>until each pot had overflowed,<br>but shame had no atonement spurred.<br>Those antique coins, a mitey blend<br>of punishment and prize.<br>Most rich men do, wrong message send<br>but few will seldom criticize.<br>The man who greedy trades one friend<br>ends up lonesome when he dies.</b></font></p></blockquote></blockquote><hr color=0000ca size=3><center><font size=2 face=arial><b><a href=http://www.isavo.net/poem/sk4.htm>This Poem's Index Page 1</a><br><a href=http://www.yensa.net/poem/sk4.htm>This Poem's Index 2</a><br><a href=http://www.isavo.com/poems.htm>Poetry Website</a><br><a href=http://www.saviodsilva.com>Saviodsilva</a><br><a href=http://www.isavo.com>Isavo Site</a></b></font></center><SCRIPT LANGUAGE=JavaScript SRC=http://www.saviodsilva.org/r/fantasy.js></SCRIPT></body></html>