I Was Made to Stand in Line
by matt starr
I rushed inside the sliding doors,
Eyes to sky, feet to floor,
The flight I sought to my family cabin,
I would board with carefree gladness,
But my luck thus did decline,
And I was made to stand in line.
The travelers all stood single file,
Burdened by baggage, nary a smile,
My watch’s face turned to a grimace,
In this air conditioned, fluorescent prison,
A silent prayer to the divine,
And yet I was made to stand in line.
Shuffled along, inch by inch,
My heart broke with every tick
Of the clock that kept me from the ones I love,
I cursed the heavens, God above,
For this delay, this waste of time,
As I was made to stand in line.
I could not stand a second longer,
My anger bubbled rising along the
Inside of my throat to whence
I shout to curse the insolence
My stoic voice only a sigh,
As I was made to stand in line.
An alarm rang a fearful warning,
My airy escape had started boarding,
The sweat boiled beads onto my brow,
I must take action now somehow,
Or to my fate I shall resign,
As I was made to stand in line.
I formed a plan to advance my standing,
And slipped surreptitious by a man
Who had planted himself in my path,
I cut in front and felt his wrath,
How I acted like such a swine,
As I was made to stand in line.
With great care I stepped under,
The nylon divider and gave a shrug for
The eyeing masses disapproving
Of my desperate act of moving,
Their stares did sting like wound in brine,
They wanted to make me stand in line.
With a frown I plead have mercy,
For I am but a humble person,
And sprinted on, my heart was thumping,
And my lungs gleefully pumping,
With an excitement as sweet as wine,
I would no longer stand in line.
The news at my arrival crushed me,
For all my petty, human rushing,
This port had but one destination,
Not toward heaven, my mind it raced,
And I cried, I whimpered, I whined,
I wished I could still stand in line.
The horned agent grabbed my baggage,
And scanned my body with intentions savage,
To send me to a fiery hell,
That I had rushed toward like a dinner bell,
He took my hand, our fingers entwined,
Why didn’t I just stand in line?
So to all of you who travel,
Please take note of what has happened,
I learned too late this simple statement,
It is the journey, not the destination,
And perhaps next time with bliss you’ll cry,
For we are all made to stand in line.