The Mailbox

The metal clanked as I lifted the lid
I felt the inside with my hands
The touch of thick paper
Rises hopes
I am hasty
And struggle to get them all
At once
I hurt my hand
But I don’t mind it
I try to see the names…
No, not this one…
Not even this one…
They are addressed to friends
Whom I begin to hate instantly
Until the last one falls down from my hands
And wiping it I see my name
Yes, this one’s for me
Finally a mail from somebody
I don’t care what it holds
Perhaps a bill
Or a credit card offer
But that doesn’t matter
Coz a moment has passed happy
And that is what I live for…
Passing moments…
Happy ones…

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