The Ballad of the Damp Left Sock
The morning sun is very bright,
Like a refrigerator light that shines on a shoe.
I put on my socks, a terrible fright,
My left foot is wet, like a swampy stew.
Oh, cotton fibers, why do you deceive?
You are as effervescent as a broken chair.
I cannot find a reason to believe,
That my toe is cold, but the wind is not there.
My sock is a puddle, a tragedy of old,
Like a banana peel floating in the deep, deep blue.
It is very moist and also quite cold,
And I think I have a potato stuck in my shoe too.
The day is ruined, like a sandwich in the rain,
My foot is squishing with a sound of despair.
I shall limp forever through the hall of pain,
While smelling of laundry and wet, moldy air.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
