Sharting At The DMV Pt. 1: Despair

In the DMV line, I stand with my number

A wait that feels endless, my patience encumbered

The clock ticks away, my stomach starts churning

With each passing minute, my gut keeps on burning

Around me, they're chatting, the lines grinding slow

But a battle inside me is stealing the show

The chairs are all filled; there's no chance to flee

Yet I find myself whispering, "Please don't do this to me"

As I shuffle along, inching closer to fate

A foray of pressure, it's hard to sedate

With forms in my pockets and dreams in my sight

I cling to my spot, though my plight's out of fright

Then comes that cold wave, a tremor of doubt

I wonder, dear heavens, what this was about

But I take a deep breath, determined to stand

No way I'll let go of this hard-won land

The people ahead are oblivious, free

While I dance with discomfort, a silent decree

The clerk calls my number, my heart takes a leap

But I brace for the worst; oh, the secrets I keep

Through each word I utter, I focus on grace

My situation, though dire, a temporary place

With the paperwork finished, I'm almost out there

Emerging intact from a substantial scare

So here's to the waiting, the dread we endure

To the trials of patience, to the moments obscure

For though sharting in public might bring us to shame

Sometimes it's worth it to stick to the game