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
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