They come in pairs,
But yet! You always end up with one!
Mismatched as always,
But it's always a great deal of fun.
You loose one, and find another,
Are they soul mates or are they brothers!
I don't know...
I just want the pair...
And not finding them is simply not fair...
Oh well,
I can get new ones...
Just to loose them again, where is the fun?
I will not take anyone else's sock though...
They tend to stay, my ex said so... I don't know!
All what is mine.... I loose,
But yours I keep. for some odd reason I will look like a creep...
This is not just a love poem, this the truth
Show me your pair of socks.... they are from your youth...
Your mother kept them,
So we keep theirs...
This is not a love poem,
Where is my sock pair?