In the locality, everyone he knew
Who never got letters, barring a few.
He was practically the man of letters
Never will he talk any silly matters.
Postman was his name for them
By their real names he knew them.
What an honor it is these days
People when mix up Deys with Rays.
For a corporator enviable feat
Will not get how much may sweat.
Come around the festival of lights
He will be ready for annual fights.
Twenty bucks he will take per home
Be it daddy or be it mom.
It was not a matter of alm
Nor an act of greasing the palm.
It was just a matter of right
He could crib,complain and fight.
Vigilance perhaps got this fact
Honor of service was hence intact.
Pay commission knew this without fail
Never it gave him a so good scale.
All was good though not so fine
Letters he delivered from nine to nine.
Hand written letters then suddenly went past
His name too could not long last.
Things so changed that he lost his wit
Poor man never knew what had hit.
High rise building came every where
Name their aliens looks very dare.
New faces unknown not much bothered
Old were lost their dreams got rogered.
He did not know the economic boom
It was for him an era of gloom.