I’ve finished a load and what do I see?
Loose socks. Not one, not two, yup, three!
I just can’t take it, nope, not one more time.
So instead of finding the sock, I decide to create this rhyme.
Where do they go? I have no clue.
I wish they were always together, glued.
I don’t get it, I really don’t. They always go IN together
Then decide to get caught in a sweater.
I guess there’s no point, huffing and puffing.
I guess I’ll continue to keep on roughing.
I tell myself it’s no biggie to have your pairs neat.
It’s really much worse to have cold feet.
So here I am with mismatched feet
Colored beet and wheat, having to accept defeat