You'll stand in line, You'll smile, You'll politely remark, You'll wonder, are they infected, You'll hold in that tiny tickled cough, You'll look at your watch, You'll kindly clap the NHS worker at the front of the queue, You'll think to yourself, your glad that's not you, You'll wonder if you really need more milk, You'll ponder about the calories and the deserts not to eat, You'll puff your cheeks, how much longer here on my feet, You'll be grateful it's not rations during the war You'll thank the girl who greets you at the door
For this is a time to be grateful for the key workers and the queues And not to be dismissive of these lifesaving 2 metre blues