I am not a clever pony,
I am not a graceful beast;
I will never earn a medal,
I will always be the least.
Though my voice is rough and stumbling,
Peace on wings of silver glides;
While you point and laugh and whisper,
In my heart my passion hides.
Bubble wrap became vocation
With my clumsiness revealed;
Taking letters, bringing parcels,
Life, career, and future sealed.
When you ask what keeps me going
Under sun and weather vile,
Watch the eye that sees my darlings
When you wonder why I smile.