Hello TP, my old friend.
I've come to shop for you again.
Because the hoarders being greedy,
Stripped the shelves tho' I was needy.
And the mission that has festered in my brain
Still remains
Within the quest for TP.

On fruitless trips I walked the floors,
Narrow aisles of the stores.
"Social Distance" I was keeping.
Crowded loneliness I was reaping,
When my eyes saw a sign that was hanging there to see,
"Tomorrow we
Will get a load of TP."

But in the morning when I came.
Lines of sheeple all the same.
People standing without meeting.
People buying without needing.
People hoarding TP that never will be shared
And no one dared
Question the quest for TP.

"Fools" said I, "You do not know.
Hoarding like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you.
Stop the madness I beseech you."
But my words like silent movie scenes,
Just languished on the screens of Facebook

And the people stood in line.
The stores all sold out every time.
And the memes flashed out their warning,
In the words that they were forming.

And the memes said, "The acts of the hoarders
Have condemned us to the market door,
Forever more,
In the eternal quest for TP."