Bill Simmons


The Postman - Poem by Bill Simmons

The road outstretched before me
Green grass on either side
Bordered by tall oak trees
I see the birds as they pass by

I see someone is outside
Taking out their garbage pail
I honk my horn as I go by
They return with a wave as well

I see the postman making rounds
As I near our small town
And I think about what I’m doing
I think about what’s going down

I wrote my baby a letter
I used words of good bye
I must have been right out of my mind
Life without her is no life

Now the road outstretched before me
Green grass on either side
Bordered by tall oak trees
Must get there before she cries

Mr. Postman as you go
I pray you do be slow
I must get back that letter
Before she reads and knows

I see sirens and lights behind me
They want me to stop for speeding now
But I just can’t, I am to close
If I do, it wont matter anyhow

They throw out their tire chains
They flatten all my tires
They take me in and lock me up
Now I’m alone and tired

I pay my fines and I go home
Now I must face my world alone
Then I hear a knock at my front door
I wonder what’s going on

There stands the Postman
This news sir isn’t better
Did you know you forgot your stamp
I’m sorry sir, returned letter.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, April 23, 2006

Poem Edited: Saturday, July 17, 2010


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