Forty Crowns
How much said the man of forty crown
To pay the tax of this town
Taxes are used to pave the street
The fathers try to keep it neat
Levies on your toil
A bushel basket from the soil
A mercantile for commerce trade
Some tariffs make the grade
My dear Sir you exact to much
The rich exempt from interest and such
Money begating money is already taxed
The wealthy have game stacked
Aristotle said charging interest is against the law
But a banker saw the flaw
Money creating money is like a new birth
How much weight is what its worth
I can't afford to live in this town
Cried the man of forty crown
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
