They're everywhere I turn; on the floor and under the beds
little socks get lost in every nook; it's them I really dread.
They fall through the cracks and under the door
It's matching them up I really abhor!
They are all white and you'd think it'd be easy
but each has their match; the girls are so picky.
So if you ever hear of my death by torture you'll know
It was because of the socks I really hate so.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! This one made me giggle as I thought about it.
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