Last Roll Remaining White Gold

It appears to be the end of TP
Only one roll remaining
White gold it has been called
Even old newspaper cannot be found

A half moon arising on a small cabin door
With the thrown awaiting and butts quivering
People lining up with only one thought
Buy it now or run out only one remaining

Minds racing while running down an aisle
Filling carts with white gold for an outhouse
With trembling thought’s of running out
Covid-19 is running wild they shout

Using their mask as a last resort

Contest: The Last 1
Sponsored By: Anthony Biaanco
Date Created: 11/28/2020
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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