Letters To The Postman Poem by Daleen Enslinstrydom

Letters To The Postman



I

Dear mister postman,
the teacher asked me today
to write a letter to you.

I am not very good at writing letters
and my spelling is bad,
you see sir,
we move around a lot
and most of my schoolwork is behind.

Sir, life is not easy
and we struggle to get along.
My dad is jobless
and we live on welfare and food coupons.

Mom, is pregnant again
and the other children are still small.
People talk behind our backs
and say that Dad is lazy
and do not want to work

but the truth is
that he helps around the house
to keep everything decent
and are constantly searching for work.

At school I do not have any friends
and children tease me and make fun of me,
my clothes are old and washed out
but at least I do still go to school

and for once in my life
I want to be treated like Becky.
Her dad is the mayor of the town, you know
and she is dropped off at school
in a Mercedes Benz,
her hair is so shiny
and her ribbons are crisp and clean,
her dresses are frilly and pink
and she always lifts her head
and turns her eyes away
when she notices me

and she has got a lot of friends
but she does not associate with people like me
as for her we are in a lower class

but mister postman, I will not stay small forever
and I want to grow up and become
a welfare worker
to lift poor people up,
I want to have a house and a warm bed
but most of all
I want people to accept me for who I am.

I have got to say goodbye now.

Thanks for reading my letter.

Dorothy.


II


Dear mister postman

If it wasn’t for the assignment that we got
from out teacher, Mrs Brown
I would have never written you this letter.

Mister postman, I do write this letter
in contentment
but as an assignment I have got to do it.

I am the class prefect
and I am the captain of the netball team
and you do know
that my father is the mayor of our town
and he is important
and for that reason I am import too.

We life on a farm outside of town
where we do breed the best racing horses
in the whole country.

My mother is the socialite of our town
and the chairwoman of every charity
and I do not know
how she manages this.

I do not associate with those poor
and low class people.
In our class there is such a girl
and I do not even know her name.

She lives in the downtown across the railway line
and they do not even have a car.
Mother says that they have got
a lot of snot nosed children.

Her hair is so dull that it never shines,
she always wears the same old clothes
and has got no kind of fashion sense
and she eats her lunch out of a brown bag
and nobody likes her
and she has got no friends at all.

When I grow up
I am going to be very famous
as a movie star
or the most beautiful model in the world
and I want to forget people that are poor,
jobless and always pregnant
as to me they do not really matter in life.

Sincerely yours

Becky Richmond

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gajanan Mishra 03 June 2013

the very real letter to the postman, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.

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Daleen Enslinstrydom

Daleen Enslinstrydom

Springs, South Africa
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