A Letter Box Poem by Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

Here there is an old building
There I see the red coloured postal box
The faded colour, old enough
Saying something in solitude and silence
I am old enough to do the homework
No one tries to find a friendship to me
There was a time when I was so busy
Carrying beautiful letters throughout the day
Until the next day the postman opens the door
There were letters of relations, excitement
The events of nearby people and homes
There were messages of friendship and love
There the letters had a wonderful happiness
I dreamed I am the most blessed one
The communication link among the people and place
The dreams of young ones I really felt
Sometimes the gum is not dried in letter covers
There were young ones expecting for a job
They waited for my opening for the call letter
There were students to gather the letters
There facial expressions both mixed feelings
Now things are different that I know
I am no one in this changed world of ours
Who cares a poor letter box at all
Where new age phones are the real players.