Socks by Kamanha

Oh I remember the good old days…

It doesn’t seem so long ago that I walked bare-footed growing sore

The hot burning wax drops drop from the heat. Indeed, what was it all for? 

But wait a minute, we had a lot of fun, didn’t we? No, we didn’t. You’re such a lying whore

You chewed and spit me relentlessly. Congrats, I couldn’t find an uglier facial mask than the one you wore.


Or… should I start with how we first met on the beach with our socks filled with sand?

How we turned our meeting to a love cage, then a house with neighbors on the avenue and made it grand

How in our touch the world made perfect sense and how our eyes spoke a language unknown to man

Dante once told me: “Fratillo mio, It’s divine comedy. Want to make god laugh? tell him of your plan”


And God must be laughing right this moment. Such a keen ambition I had

Weird way how he shows me who’s in control. Boy, I must have made him real mad

Love was truly from above, because you astro-killed me. well, I flew with you… my bad

Remnants of my past shattered, scattered, then gathered to make you a flamboyant iron clad


I led a dead life harvesting pain from nine to five to at the end die alive

For you I sailed seven seas and cruised lands to where I never knew I could arrive

Our soliloquies and Beelzebub’s disguise couldn’t prevent us from thriving to survive

Or at least that’s what I thought, before you made me trust you then stabbed me with your poisonous knife


You abrogated the covenant of cordiality with a virulent misdeed

I languish to heed how many heartbeats did you need to decide to cheat

An epiphany! I plummet in a utopia of idiots drowned in a land of wet dreams, indeed

I hate you, you worthless sock! So, stop begging and get off my feet


So to wrap up, would you please, just please, GO…

…Kill yourself for me?

Hey… did I mention that all this is what I would’ve said if SHE was the one who cheated on me?

Too bad she wouldn’t have said the same thing… I’m truly sorry

Sorry, I misled you. But, I guess… I’m the dirty sock in this story


I’m the one who pickled her cheeks from the sour tears she shed

I’m the one with the thousand lies that I had her fed

I’m the most low-budget, third-rated, fungus-infested sock, I admit

So, baby, just change me and wash up all this dirt

And I’ll be over there watching over you from your laundry basket

And finally, I hope you don’t regret your allergy to my pathetic fabric.

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