A single sock sat sadly there
no longer part of any pair
remembering the days gone by
before its partner chose to fly.
“I miss the days,” said single sock,
“When we would wander, roam and walk…
So why’d he flee? Do you suppose
he loathed those rows of stinky toes?”
“Yes, there were times – I don’t forget –
we stank like feet or dripped with sweat,
but it was nice to know all day
I had a friend a foot away.”
“But since my buddy went astray,
I might as well be thrown away…
He left me here, one half a pair…
Who’ll wear me now? It isn’t fair!”
Don’t worry single sock… don’t cry.
Some day someone shall wander by
that likes to wear their socks mismatched
and loves you being unattached.