Payless

Slouching in the dreaded line;
It seems as though everyone is looking at you
Buying the stamps that never go on envelopes.
You stand there, with
Secondhand clothes and holes in the soles,
But your feet feel oddly warm.
Then you realized that
Someone else has been in your shoes.
You are not alone.
Bags and bags of threadbare sweaters.
These final scraps of warmth are no longer yours,
But now a freezing child will have a blanket or a jacket.
You stand there, with
A child saying, "Daddy, Daddy, can we buy this?"
And your heart feels cold and empty.
You look down at the grimy tiled floor,
And there is mud where you are standing.
As the cashier's chest heaves and stale breath leaks out of her
Heavily lined mouth,
You realize that other people have stood here,
And that you are probably better off than they are.
You are not alone,
But you are not desperate like they are.