Mailmen
The mailman in the city
Walks the streets with all his mail
And in each apartment lobby,
He leaves letters, without fail.
Where the buildings tower skyward,
He walks less to do his route,
For with endless boxes waiting,
He needs hours to work it out.
In the suburbs or the country
Mailmen drive from door to door,
Dropping bills and correspondence
And occasionally more.
But no matter their surroundings,
City streets or grassy grounds,
Neither rain nor sleet prevents them
From completing all their rounds.
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