Dear Sock, Hour 18

You miserable thing,
Full of holes and stinking

Why can’t I throw you away?

Your partner is gone
Lost in dryer’s abyss
But still you persist
Why?
What is the reason for your existence?

Why must you lie there on the floor,
Smugly stinking, totally useless

You piece of shit

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *