Bad Poem a Day

My sock
has been eaten
by my washing machine
and I
am left bereft
with one foot cold and lonely
uncovered by fabric

why must I live sockless
screaming internally
in a nightmare born of malfunctioning technology
why must I never again
feel the soft caress
of stripy cotton blend against my toes

You must bear the sock to Mordor
and realise
that it hurts me
more than it hurts you

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