Just sitting, waiting on this dusty shelf
Not at all where I need to be
I am important, I’m about his health
Please someone, anyone, find me
Poor Mr Jones, doesn’t have very long
Just turned twenty one; still so young
The clerk, she addressed my envelope wrong
Oh lord, I wish I had a tongue
To his death now, Mr Jones may succumb
This place, it gives me night terrors
I sit, I think, wonder what will become
We’re all here because of errors
Please someone, anyone, find me
I am important, I’m about his health
With Mr Jones I need to be
Not sitting up here, on this dusty shelf
Author notes
Prompt:
Write as the letter, document, notification, or whatever kind of mail that was sent, but never received. 'You' are laying in a pile with other pieces of undeliverable mail. Think of something you may have received, (good or bad) and imagine if you hadn't.. . .Don't be the addressee, be the mail.
A contest entry
- Dead Mail by JeannieD Hunter.
1000 points, ended June 12, 14 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Well done! I wanna help this letter get to Mr. Jones! Awesome take on the prompt. Thank you for entering and good luck!
~Jeannie -
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Thank you for the wonderful prompt and the bronze
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Oh this is excellent hun. What a sad letter this is and it does need to be delivered. *Sigh* And the reality of what you have written is heartbreaking.
A wonderful poem indeed.
Best wishes in this contest
(mum xx)


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Thank you mum

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