Come, Help Me

“Come, help me”, those words still rings in my ears The words of an old man I used to hear He would come daily and stand near my gate And I would help him to cross the road straight Leading to the post office on the square. I asked him about this daily routine He said, “His son left for job in his teens And comes to check mails from him if any” “Come, help me” His neighbor told me that his son was dead But the old man refused to take truth sad One day he got the post as if from his son And he used to receive the post anon Living in peace and never heard again “Come, help me” +++++++ July 30, 2014 Form : Rondeau (10 syllabic) Dr. Ram mehta Third Place Win Contest: Random acts of kindness by Debbie Guzzi