A poem: Jerry

Thought I'd return to an all-seeing narrator for this one, tells the story of a guy working in the city, enjoy :)

Jerry:

Jerry worked in the opaque city,

Skyscrapers grey,

Surrounding his every move,

Like a pack of wolves.

A lacklustre lonely office,

Gormless faces and second-hand suits,

Trudging between desks,

Waiting for day’s desertion.

Client’s screams searing,

Down a phone line of disappointment,

Letting each down,

Sympathy a useless commodity.

Trundling train rammed,

The cattle riding it home,

Claustrophobia standing still,

Until safety’s station.

His soporific flat,

Forecasts relaxation,

Which sadly never arrives,

As shrieks fill his vacant ears.

He’s not doing enough,

Her lavish lifestyle infiltrated,

Insufficient funds for faking love,

Tearing their torrid affair apart.

She packed her bags and ran,

To the next target,

Squeezing his life away,

Like the juice from a lemon.

Sour, bitter and stricken,

Jerry looked upon a noose,

Easier than his broken being,

Curing his headache eternally.