A Letter Box

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.