Lament of the single sock

A room full of sorrow and empty of love
Where the solo sock with no name lay
Divorced from function now sleeping with loathe
His partner had left him with nothing to say.
No foot to fill him with a job to do
Yearning for the smelly of sweaty labour
NO more journeys with his cousin the shoe
Nothing left to say except for...
Where have all the lost socks gone
Leaving us behyind, half dead and alone.


ps am trying to work ways to incirporate your ideas into a future lecture on representation in the 21st century. I may need to pick that mind of yours apart for advise and direction.