The Mystery of the Missing Sock
In the depths of the hamper, a tale unfolds,
Of cotton and wool, and stories yet untold.
Laundry day’s here, the cycle’s begun,
But wait — where’s its pair? There’s only just one.
The washer whirls, the dryer spins,
In this domestic dance, nobody wins.
Socks enter as twins, but one takes a flight,
Into the abyss, out of plain sight.
Is there a portal, a sock twilight zone?
A hidden dimension, where lone socks are thrown?
Do they conspire, to slip away,
To a sock utopia, where they all play?
Or perhaps they’re heroes, in a tale more grand,
Off to save their kind, in some distant land.
Fighting the sock monster, that lurks in machines,
A creature of lint, in dark hidden scenes.
I ponder these thoughts, as I fold and I pair,
Each sock that remains, in this laundry affair.
And though one is missing, it’s tale left to spin,
I know it’s on a journey, that’s hidden within.
So here’s to the missing, wherever you are,
In a sock heaven, or lands afar.
You leave us puzzled, but also aware,
That life’s little mysteries, are a love affair.
