There is a man who works in the post office

And everyone feels sorry for him

He is old

And slumps in his chair

But he always smiled at everyone

He hands them their mail

And says have a good day

And he’ll help you with the package

If you made a mistake

I often wonder

If he has anyone

To go home to

I see him every week

When I drop off work letters

And I’ve never once asked him

About his whole life

Has he always been the old man in the post office

Does someone love him

I think about it every time I’m there

And instead, we talk about the weather

And he smiles at me

And I think he wants me to ask

I think he has a story to tell

But I hand in my letters

And say

Tomorrow

I will.

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Cranky