GOING HOME

Looking at the view, from the hole in his shoe,

Sees the walls now closing in

 All that has changed seems more than a shame

 Throwing his briefcase in the bin!

Swats the flies, while sweat stings his eyes

Will his cheap "soda" cool him down?

Annoyed by the cry from each passer-by

His frustration drowns out the sound

"I'm going home", words set-in stone

Will he ever find his way?

Upset by threats, all common sense he forgets

He won't see another day.

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