A Day Of A Lawyer’s Life

This is a poem that I’d written some time ago, but wasn’t sure of posting it. Since I’ve nothing new, so here it it. Constructive criticism appreciated.

Today the trin-trin of the phone,
And my alarm’s baritone,
Woke me from my deepest slumber,
I woke up confused and had never been dumber.
“Ten minutes to go for the hearing”, the message had said.
I put on my jeans and buttered my bread,
I washed my face with shampoo, not soap,
“The judge may be late,” was all I could hope.
The phone screamed once again,
Not my client, I hoped in vain.
For across the hall, her voice did howl,
“You’d better be here,” was all she growled.
I took my keys and ran to the car,
Which, unfortunately, was a little bit too far.
When a voice inside told me not to rush,
I said to it, “Shut up dude, hush!”
I started my car and pressed on it.
It lurched forward like and athlete-fit.
I raced my way across the town,
The client was at the gate, her face a frown.
“Once again?” she questioned and hurried ahead,
“Was working last night, went late to bed.”
“Judge Jury is not easy to please.”
“Jenny, relax and trust me and be at ease.”
I reached the court just in time,
To see the judge enter behind.
All rose and greeted and sat down again,
She banged her desk, “Let the court begin.”
I cleared my throat, stood up and said,
“My Lord! My client here says she is fed,
Of this man, here ahead of us,
None other than her husband, Mr. Bathidas.
She says she wants to end this,
This marriage, the little joke of his.”
“Objection, my lord!” said Bathidas’ side,
So for hours together, I was grilled and fried.
Four hours later, I lost the case,
I’d lost my client and shamed my face.
I went to the office and rested my head,
The bell buzzed, and to the phone I said,
“Who’s there?” Oh Lord! Not another client.
“It’s Mr. Weatherly, your client.”
I banged my head, “Just a second.”
I covered my desk, with books without ends.
And loosened my tie and ruffled my hair,
And dropped some papers here and there.
“Enter,” I said in a calm voice.
He said, “I give up the case, it is my choice.”
“What? Why? What about the fee?”
“I am sorry, after today, you won’t get any.
Your performance at the court was despicable,
I don’t want an attorney, so ill-able.”
He stood and shook my hand and left.
A fear into my mind slowly crept.
What if everyone does the same?
Not everyone, I said, you stupid insane.
The friend stood on the cabin door,
“You lost the case and are sour.
But it is already five and now,
Lets grab a beer, no when, where or how.”
He ordered me to get up and clear,
And asked me to put aside my fear.
I left my cloak and the office table,
I cleared up and forgot my label.
With Ted I went up to the bar,
And drank vodka, and beer and sidecar.
At half past twelve, I left the place.
The consequences, tomorrow, I’d have to face.
My next hearing is not till afternoon, at four.
Till then, I’d sleep sound and snore.
Just at the thought, the phone buzzed once more,
“It’s a night hearing, at ten past four.
I know it’s stupid and can’t be helped.
You better come prepared, or else you’d be sacked.”
I sighed and drove the car again,
And prepared myself for an all-nighter (insane!).
And this is a day in a bachelor lawyer’s life,
A day without children, nor friends, nor wife.

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