Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

A Memory. 
I once was an errand boy and had a big bike that had no gears and 
our town was hilly. In front of the bike there was a steel mesh box 
to put stuff in…sometimes when a doctor needed three chairs for 
his waiting room it was all loaded up and I could hardly see where 
I was going. But most of the time delivered things like typewriters 
or ash trays; or delivering letters to clients, the last part made me 
feel rather important as I was debt collector and taking the money 
to the bank. Banks back then had a churchly interior and I had to
take my cap off before entering; a somber place never saw anyone 
smile.  When not on call I worked in the office putting papers in 
folders in alphabetical orders, fetch cakes and coffee for the staff. 
I was offered a position as a junior clerk, but the thought of working 
in an office for the rest of my life was too much, mother said I had 
lost an golden opportunity, but she was thinking of what she could 
tell her sister:” my son works in an office”.  As my aunt’s son was 
a welder and wore overall. It is a long time ago back in the days 
I was free to make a choice. Right or wrong I shall not know perhaps 
I could have ended up as a company director that would have made 
mother very proud.

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