Cocktail Rush

The time ticks on six o’ clock the face of a shaken man. A hand moving by itself eyes the cocktail rush. He grabs his jacket torn from each side as he leaves his house. Opening of the door of the point of no return. A smiling face as he looks for the good almighty dollar. He has found a note he quickly gives it in exchange for an adrenaline rush. A look to his left hand that stops moving by itself. ”Yes,” he says. “I have found myself.” Black hole buttons looking at the world as it passes him. The bar attendee looks at him in astonishment. Is this a guy who arrives here or someone else? He turns around there is no one there apart from the cocktail given to him. He looks outside. Where is the noise coming from? Patrolling cars surround the area; a man is being carried on a stretcher. (Fictional poem but meaningful) (Taken from my book called shock)