Waiting for the ride back home,
I notice a woman with socks like yours.
Like the ones you used to like,
With polka dots,
Black and white.
Like the ones I liked to pull up,
When I knelt down
to tie your shoelaces up.
Like the ones you used to take off,
After throwing me on the bed
to make love.
Like the Christmas pair I gifted you,
Before I knew
there was not gonna be more of you.
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 7:50 AM UTC
Waiting for the ride back home,
I notice a woman with socks like yours.
Like the ones you used to like,
With polka dots,
Black and white.
Like the ones I liked to pull up,
When I knelt down
to tie your shoelaces up.
Like the ones you used to take off,
After throwing me on the bed
to make love.
Like the Christmas pair I gifted you,
Before I knew
there was not gonna be more of you.
