She Can't Have Him

I've gone in search of my mate,
he was taken from me and paired with another.
She was a flirty little pink number,
lace all down her sides.

I'm not giving him up without a fight.
We've been paired for years,
I nursed him through his first snag,
saved him when the dryer overheated,
and consoled him when his parents were put in the Goodwill basket.

We have two sets of twins at home,
they're too little to understand where Dad has gone.
Their little yellow bodies wriggle everytime the door opens,
waiting for him to return.

I don't know how long I can hide in the pile,
hoping not to be noticed.
A single sock doesn't have much chance of survival.
I must find him before I am discovered.
Alone I am vulnerable...I could be given to Goodwill before my time.

I won't let that happen.
My kids are just baby socks.
She can't have him...I'm going to get him back.
I've made a deal with the dryer...