For all of my years spent on earth
Over 50 for what it’s worth
I’ve come to accept
The dryer’s bold theft
(Paused here just to say Colin Firth)
On laundry day I’m plagued with self doubt
Eight socks in, only seven come out
Today I was shocked
To find every sock
Is this a joke? What is it about?
Said machine suffers asymmetry
It bangs and grumbles; so fidgety
I fear the dryer’s
Fee might be higher
A human sacrifice; does it want me?