November 8th, 2007
Matched
Theres a clean pile of socks
waiting to be matched
on laundry day.
They are sorted and inside-outted.
Matched up.
Joined together.
There are two left without a match.
Same color almost. Its close.
They are different.
Tuck them together anyway.
They will get lost if left alone.
If worn, no one will notice.
What’s a perfect match anyway?
No one will notice.
Unless they look close.
Good thing there was not three.
