My Socks Poem by Phil Soar

They disappear without a trace
When I get up to wash my face
I thought I knew where I had placed
Those wandering socks of mine

I keep them in the dresser draw
They usually end up on the floor
Or thrown down near the bedroom door
Those wandering socks of mine

They pair off sometimes randomly
Mixed colours lie there separately
Although my feet had set them free
Those wandering socks of mine

Some with holes and some are frayed
Some are bright whilst others fade
They lose themselves in disarray
Those wandering socks of mine

They're put aside in pairs of two
They should be kept like that with glue
Because they part when they just want to
Those wandering socks of mine

I wear them as I leave for work
They make me look a complete berk
Different socks on different feet
My wandering socks are incomplete