In a land where socks go to disappear,
A mystery that's been here year after year.
One minute they're matched, a cozy pair,
Next thing you know, one's vanished in thin air.
The dryer's a portal to another dimension,
Where socks have a party, it's quite the convention.
They dance and they prance, oh what a sight,
While we're left with odd socks, try as we might.
I've searched high and low, behind the couch,
Under the bed, like a sock-hunting grouch.
But alas, they're elusive, these socks on the run,
Perhaps in Narnia, having too much fun.
So here's to odd socks, a quirky treasure,
They've given our laundry a unique measure.
A mystery unsolved, a chuckle well earned,
In the realm of lost socks, we all have turned.
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