The Checkout Line

I stand expectantly

In the checkout line

Waiting for my turn to come;

Biding my time. 

Many others have gone ahead of me

They waited for their turns.

I understand their places in front

They previously had earned. 

But some have come from behind

And pushed me aside.

The jumped the line ahead of me

My good manners they did deride. 

I wonder should I join them,

Taking others’ places?

Ignoring their positions?

Ignoring their pained, hurt faces? 

I still hold my place

Respecting others’ stations.

I accept my circumstance

But I’ve become impatient. 

 

My legs are weak, my feat are numb

My spot in line has not moved.

I've worked so hard, I've waited long

But my place has not improved.

I worry that when I get to the front,

Where the shelves were once so plenty

My turn will come and I will find

The shelves are all now empty.