Socks

During the day I do proudly walk.

Because in my shoes are funny colored socks!

If I wear black, grey, or white I do balk.

I’d much rather have zigzags, stripes, or pink and purple spots.

Or curls and spirals with yellow polka dots.

Even ones that look like a spotted ocelot.

I don’t mind I wear them all, cause I like socks, not a little but a lot.

And my dresser drawer has plenty in stock.

When I cannot think or have writer’s block.

Time is moving slow, and it’s 5 o’clock.

Off come my shoes and I dance in my socks.

To hip-hop, pop, or classic rock.

Even concertos from Beethoven and Bach.

I slide down the hallway to Rock Around the Clock.

Maybe the Cha-cha-cha or the robot or moonwalk.

Out goes the stress and I have so much fun, but then I stop, and suddenly gawk.

Because uh oh it’s dark and 11 o’clock!

And when laundry day comes, I sit there in shock.

I think where are my pairs? I have only one sock.

Oh, how I wish socks were sold in pairs of three.

Because they seem to disappear don’t you agree?

Maybe I should keep them hidden safe with a lock!