#socktroubles

The divorce rate among my socks is astonishing. Many of them don’t survive the “machine” of life and end up single.

There’s a ghost

I haunt

From one

To

Two.

  There’s a giant

I wrestle

From three

To

eleven.

  There’s a seabeast

I lure

From eleven

To

nine.

  And there’s a devil

I hide

Any chance

I

It’d seem

a dreary dream,

for you to ream

that damned gleam

you left to teem

& fester in every worn seam.

You're regretfully another rhyme scheme

"I'D RATHER EAT A CHEESE OMELETTE!!"