Shopping for TP

Staring at the empty shelves Of things I took for granted, Speechless I appeared to be, But in my head I ranted.

Why and who and so what for, Did people shop in fear? They took the bread and things in cans, But left the wine and beer.

I swore I wouldn’t join in this, And took a noble stand, But then I reached the paper aisle, And almost popped a gland.

The fear that was elusive, Was fear I had to own, My empty cart stared back at me, So I grabbed my magic phone.

I made calls to sound the warning, And calls to many stores, But the toilet paper hoarders, Were stealth from shore to shore.

To home I went defeated, To an empty bathroom shelf, I told my sons and husbands, It’s every man for himself.

I retreated to my bedroom, And closed and locked the door, I opened up my closet And saw there on the floor,

An unused roll of TP, I remembered being there, But this became my precious, As I decided not to share.

I became the hoarder, The selfish, sneaky thief, But now I could not care less As I sighed with sweet relief.