I Have Issues With Tissues

I’ve always thought of tissues
As cellular matter:
An ensemble of cells
To make us stronger or fatter.
As little square sheets
For wiping food splatters,
Or stifling our sneezes
In the midst of our chatter.

Then came the revelation,
The dismayed observation
That tissues could be …
Tools of reservation!

Hungry people prowled,
With trays laden with food.
Tables around them sat vacant
Yet some ate where they stood.

The reason, you see,
Is this phenomenon called ‘chope’.
In hawker centres and food courts,
Want a seat? See the tissues? Abandon hope.
Because every packet of tissues
Marks a reserved lot;
Each owner will be back
With his food, to his spot.

But must we obey tissues?!
Can’t we toss them aside?
Who started this ‘chope’ thing anyhow?
Why must we all abide?

These packets of tissues
Should not be more powerful than laws.
Tissues are for blowing noses
And wiping sweat off our jaws.

Yet we’ve allowed this -
This bizarre situation
Where a tiny inanimate oblong
Is a tool of reservation.

DAILY PROMPT ~ RESERVATION