The Hard Life Of A Sock
Thou shalt bow under my trampling feet,
And stretch open thine mouths, face down in dirt.
Woven skin, but inside there is no meat
Turn thee inside out, yet remain unhurt
No armor, fly thine sharp colors instead
After I’ve ripped thine beloveds away
Thou art truly matchless, striped in bright red
Enhampered, crumples thee after each day
Thou art marching ‘til holes open your heels
Thou mocks me, why deploy themselves in pairs?
Without strong boots, thou shalt see no next meal
When thou hungers, thou hoards’t flesh in thine lair.
Thou art a fine weapon, when filled with rocks
It is a hard life, if thou art a sock.
About the Creator
Alanna H.
Alanna Hoffman is a writer specializing in folklore and world cultural study. When she is not writing, her time is spent on sustainable fashion, various art mediums, and taking care of a horde of animals.
Instagram: @paracosmiccreations21
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I was going through the stories I wrote way before Vocal and found a series I’d penned on the American movie industry. I covered the economics of making and distributing movies, the ways the movie industry responds to modern challenges such as MeToo movement and the streaming technologies, and other topics, including some movie reviews.
By Lana V Lynx4 days ago in Geeks
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