Wednesday, February 15, 2012

The Calamity of Mismatched Socks

Red socks, blue socks, green socks, pink socks. Orange socks, purple socks, black socks, white socks.

Old socks, new socks, holy socks, dirty socks. Knee socks, ankle socks, toe socks, no socks.

In pairs they come, all packaged and nice, but momma gets mad when you feed them to mice.

They come in colors that count more than the rainbow, and feel free to show them in something like a variety show.

Now something that we’ve all experienced is the heartache of losing a sock; it leaves you down and also it’s pair as if you’ve lost your luck.

Now what to do with a pair-less sock? Eat it, burn it, or throw it away? Feeling torn, lost, and confused, it’s as if you’ve lost your way.

Oh wait, I know! You could pair it with another and give it a friend! But would they stay together and weather through to the bitter end?

Oh the complexity of mismatched socks- how it puts you at a loss. But you know, it could be worse- so I will stop being cross.

A friend and buddy you will get my divorced little outcast, and you’ll see that friends you can make surprisingly fast.

You’ll walk together, stink together, wash together, think together. Wear together, run together, tear together, have fun together.

But when that tragic day comes when together you will no longer be, don’t worry too much because the end soon you will see.

Your master may cry, his tears you will dry, and together you’ll sigh. For the time has come where you must die, and leave this world by and by.

Goodbye my friends and thanks for your feet that I was allowed to keep warm. But I must move on and carry on and weather my own storm.

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