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Letter Box: ‘Why does nobody comes this way’?

Me: ‘Maybe, they prefer an email’?

Letter Box: ‘Really? That means I am no more needed’.

Me: Not really! Maybe, they need you for registered posts only.’

Letter Box: ‘Well, what is an email’?

Me: ‘It is an electronic message that is instant moving from one gadget to another’.

Letter Box: ‘Oh, so it is faster than me. It is instant that is why I am discarded.’

Me:’ You are not discarded. You are just less used these days’.

Letter Box: ‘It is instant and faster but can one feel the touch of the paper? Can a mother touch the words written by her son and feel the warmth of his affection? Can a father embrace the letters drenched in his daughter’s tear who is miles away? Can all this be possible in an email’?

Me: ‘No, not at all. But you know what the world has changed now. And maybe, you did not notice. There are more people on gadgets than in the garden, where you are place’.

Letter Box: ‘I know as there are no footballs that hit me anymore. There is no one who looks at me – waiting for that one letter eagerly. They just pass by me – as if I do not exist. Oh, it hurts, it really hurts so much’!

Me: ‘You are still needed, and that is why you are still here.’

Letter Box: ‘Maybe, but still I wait for that football to hit me, and that postman to unlock. I still wait’!
Penguin Poems May 17
Got an email from someone I thought I knew
Curious to know what we were up to
Clicked on the link, but it was just a ploy
To hack into my life and use me as a toy.

Broke into the hardware in my head,
Consumed my credit cards, ushered me into debt
Hacked into and manipulated all I felt
Controlled and restricted the hand I was dealt.

Even with my new passwords and new email
The scar of the hacker will never fully heal.
Blamed it on them being the stone cold *****,
But I’m the one who let them hack with a single click.
So I opened a link in an email from someone and my family got hacked so this is that but d e e p lol.
Rushil Dec 2018
I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she tells me it is my destiny,
and it is all in the email she sent me.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she possesses many Riches,
and she has promised me all of them.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
from her wretched uncle,
who will steal her wealth and lock her away.

I would save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
but she only needs my Government ID,
Bank Account and Social Security.
Johnny walker Dec 2018
I'm yours till we both go
home, forever hope that
will be true for so much happiness I found since
Emailing you
You message me at the start of my day that give
a lift put new Perspective
on my day
And then I go wandering  through my thoughts of the day and think of Terry how Is your day going so for did you have enough time to get done all you needed to do before darkening skies
descended on
A poem for a special friend thinking of her though out the day
I think myself what Is my friend doing right now
Johnny walker Dec 2018
Nearly eleven month of pain I've suffered since
My wife has passed on
Just when I felt like giving
up, a message came my way by
from a lady who had read a poem I wrote of my wife on reading she felt compelled she didn't no why
She needed to look after me and we've become friends
Although she Is many miles away  she contacts me at the end of her busy day
Brings such a smile to my face she makes my day my Internet friend doesn't no she has probably save my
A friend from out the blue woo has probably saved my life but dosen't no It
Nupur Chowdhury Sep 2018
It’s good, but not what we’re looking for right now.
Oh, but it stings. And how!
The position’s closed, better luck next time
Your lips are bruised purple from that smile.

We loved it, but it doesn’t fit with our current line-up
You take a bitter sip of the salty tea-cup.
It’s good, dear, just not for me
You nod, you understand, ‘cause it ever is.

Your throat stings from not screaming loud enough,
Frustration the itch of a swallowed cough.
You’ve heard it a hundred times, and yet the hundred-and-first
Burns like every regret thrice reimbursed.

But while they wound, they aren’t nearly as bad,
As the radio silence of indifference ironclad.
Refreshed inboxes and double-checked call logs tell
The sordid tale of a dream drowning in the wishing well.

Vacancies disappear and resumes languish
Receptionists pout in parodied anguish.
It’s never you, it’s always them,
It’s never you’re-not-good-enough, it’s always not-the-right-fit.

It’s all the same, yet unique every time
Nobody’s got a minute, but asking’s not a crime.
It’s self-flagellation with a calling card
We don’t give a ****, best regards.

Your name’s not on this list, or the next one
And yet you walk, ‘cause you can’t outrun
The ghost of a dream, of a hope long gone
Of finding the happily-ever-after in life’s lexicon.
g Dec 2017
dear you,
i’m writing this
to ask you
to plead you
to beg you,

please stay with me
for one last time
before it all
comes to an end.

i look forward
to your prompt reply.
structures are good, things that don't change are good.
anon Sep 2017
If life were like Internet history
I wouldn't be here
And neither would you
I'd have deleted us from my history
And never seen you again

If life were like my email
I'd have endless lists of friends
Following me everywhere
Asking how my day was
And being "always there for me"

If life were like Spotify
I could hear what I want
And skip what I don't like
A song for the day
To carry me through it all

If life were like Facebook
I wouldn't be sad anymore
And you could move on
Once it all becomes "complicated"
Afterall, I can just delete it later

If life were like a video game
I could be the best
And you the worst
Because I couldn't fall for you
If you were only pixellated

If life were like an avatar
I could shape you up
To be the perfect image
And when I get tired
Just delete you like you did me

If life were like a video
Your voice would play on and on
Forever in my mind
Until I eventually realize
You pressed pause and I never knew
Jenny Gordon Jul 2017
Haha, it's funny looking at this now.  L8:  that little email, oh my.


Where midnight'd feign a silence 'til I'd thence
Roll back the covers to at last avail
Me of lying down for good, ah how the pale
Eye of that moon rose twixt those treetops' dense
Black lacework, shivring in a keener sense.
Although we knew twas folly to detail
Aught, how I sent my Joey, like to scale,
Notes on whatever, to shrink from it hence.
Or, no.  I squinted as it peered as twere
At me, the ghastly calm fit for sweet dew,
And rose when dawn's first shafts began to stir.
What are the dreams long since forgot as due?
For if I shrink from building castles your
Sweet intrest culls, will that make all come true?

His note...that handwritten thing you treasure forever, oh when he finally answered that email of mine...what was it Nathan said about communication?
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