The cupboard under the stairs

By monodemo
Wed, 12 Feb 2020
- 572 reads
In the cupboard under the stairs
Socks lie in imperfect pairs
The cogs in my head start turning
It smells like toast burning
Should I take on the mammoth task?
Of pairing up these socks at last?
The door is full, fit to burst
I go and put my hand in first
Suddenly socks come flying out
Enough to let out an involuntary shout
Red ones, blue ones, yellow and green
Most of these socks I’ve never seen
I go and get some fabreeze
It puts some of the smell at ease
After about an hour or two
Out of my mouth came one word, ‘phew!’
Finally the socks were in pairs
And empty the cupboard under the stairs
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