Aisle 12

Click clack, click clack
A dollar ninety nine.
I'm stocking the shelves at the People-Mart
Pricing each one
With a plastic gun.
Judging them one at a time.

Click clack, click clack
A sea of human cans.
My task is to calculate each one's worth
By color by weight
By size and by shape
A price for each life in my hands.

Click clack, click clack
How can I determine the cost?
Shall I tally the value trait by trait?
Big heart or big brain
Are they worth the same?
I confess that I feel a bit lost.

Click clack, click clack
Am I willing, am I able?
To subtract for the scratches, scuffs and dings?
Dented or defaced
Will that change the taste?
What if a can's missing its label?

Click clack, click clack
Rows and rows of unmarked cans.
No way to account for potential or grace
No price is too high
I let out a sigh
Just what is the worth of a man?

Click clack, click clack
Pointless pursuit of prices.
Give up the charade, my futile trade
Close down the store
And lock the front door
For each man on the shelf is priceless.