I knew surburban civil servant

[10F1renegade]

Hello there. I'm brand new to critiquing poetry so take my (blunt) feedback lightly, I guess! Tbh, I'm more of a grammar Nazi than poet, but I do want feedback on my poem so...

Paul sits in the far corner every day.
His neat desk there, all tidy'd away. a neat desk that's been tidied is basically saying the same thing; perhaps make this "desk of Paul's" sound more interesting
Coat stand waits, naked there. every last word rhymes but this one, oddly
Paul catches the 7.40 from Surbiton, he's on his way.

Waterloo bridge sees the masses come.
O'er the Thames, they stride in unison. going by the next stanza ("four of us") shouldn't it be "we stride"?
Paul walks, a faceless man, his day in front.
A Senior civil servant, he has a proud mum.

Four of us working together in this space, four... of whom?? who are the other three (or two if counting Paul)?
I'm the junior one, here to do as they say.
Paul's here again, he's the  senior man.
In from Surbiton, another year along. you already mentioned that he came in from Surbiton

We make small talk about train delays.
The weather today and cricket in play. nice flow from delays
Paul, I find out later, lives all alone.
Still in Surbiton, close to his mom.

A funny shaped man, I found him to be a very peculiar guy. you found him somebody? perhaps you could shorten this to "a funny shaped man; a very peculiar guy". don't be afraid to use the semi-colon! it can be very effective, and I find that it's made me a better writer all around
Loves wine and cheese, does fine dine.
Always immaculate, tidy and neat.
England of yesteryear, that stiff upper lip. these closing lines don't evoke the "strangeness" that's alluded to in the first line

Follows protocol and would never deviate.
Felt his letters are so important, that he'd dictate. be careful of mixing tenses. perhaps you meant "were so important" or "feels (that) his letters are important" and "he'll dictate".
A sense of aristocratic stature in this room. good description
Back in suburbia, all alone, he has his mom.

I tried to get to know him, to have a chat.
Talk about mundane matters, this and that.
It never worked, he just went all cold.
I was too young, he was too old.

I often think to myself, what about Paul?.
Did he stay going o'er that bridge, summer and fall.
He must be retired now and still at home. perhaps "stuck at home"?
All alone in Surbiton, mum now gone.

© poppoetry 2015.

It's a lot different to the kind of poems I would write, but you've done a fairly good job on telling a story of a civil servant's isolated existence. And I hope you're not offended by my critique! Cheers.