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Jan 25
Socks are mismatched,
Often one is lost,
Waiting to find it's match,
That has been vanquished by the washing machine.

We fight over that one lost sock,
Blaming each other,
Calling into question,
Our ability to wash each other's laundry.

Back and forth we go,
Fighting over socks,
Searching the washing machine,
For that one lost sock

I'm left staring,
The ****** washing machine still open,
Wondering why we're fighting,
Over missing and lost socks,

When all I really want,
Is to see your missing and mismatched socks,
Resting next to mine,
In the hollow drawer.
Written by
Dee  25/F/Ireland
     Bogdan Dragos and ---
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