The Loyalty of the Sock Questioned
Admit I once mistook they ties to be
Both loyal to me and thy partnered one,
But now, besot with grief, my blind eyes see
how cold a comfort cotton rows do run.
How dare thee sep'rate from my feet? Cry I,
Whilst changing out of trousers for the night.
Have thee no heart, no shame, no will to try
To fasten to one with a chilly plight?
Nomad are you who choose wander loose;
Not abiding laws set down in stone.
For oft thou disappear in dryers' use,
Sent far to great dimensions yet unknown.
In time I and your e'er abandoned twin,
Will grieve and note the subterfuge within.
