Pome

People mill around me, I see them not

They jostle me and make me turn around

But I feel them not

Onward I proceed, intent on my task

The babble of voices that reach me,

From but a few feet away,

Are faint, and without meaning.

Cause my mission is vital

And timing in this case is key.

Finally I reach my destination

I stand strong and silent

At the end of the line

And patiently await my turn

The mirrors on the wall reflect

The anxiousness all around

And the relief when at last its your turn.

Determination and perseverance are but

A few qualities you must possess

To use the ladies room in a bar./

(Did I really write that? I am not so sure anymore. It was in a CD from ten years ago or so. Bars! Ha! What are they?)