The faceless people
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He opens the door for me.
As I enter the mess, he says – Good Morning, sir.
I pass on a cursory smile,
barely acknowledging his presence.
He slowly moves to the background.
I am about to finish my breakfast,
When he comes back with a glass of juice.
“Sir, this is good for health.”
I look at him intently,
He does have a good-looking smiling face.
But, it takes some effort to notice.
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nice poem dude
Comment by Chris Brewster November 13, 2011 @ 7:17 pm