It's A Ground Level Existence

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Most days I have quite the luxurious life.  

Rarely filled with any strife.  

Relaxing with pairs of friends fills my day.  

Until that one day everything goes astray.  


One day every week or so

My life goes from high to low.  

I am pulled from slumber and manhandled it's true.  

Then stuck to one's skin like some kind of glue. 

I am dragged through the dust and dirt for what seems like hours.  

Until my fresh clean smell fades and sours. 


Next I am discarded and thrown in a heap.  

That part always makes me feel so cheap.  

Why don't I scream and complain you ask.  

Because this seems like my only task.  

I must enjoy the short time I face.  

For I am constantly reminded I am easily replaced.  


This is the life of a sock.

Please remember us the next time you're out for a walk.










 

 



  

Created: Jun 05, 2017

Tags: fiction, socks

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