Mismatched

A bunch of socks without their mates

Are nestled in my drawer.

You’d think I wouldn’t save them

Since they’re no good anymore.

 

But lately, when I’m choosing clothes

To wear out on the street,

I realize not a soul will notice

What is on my feet.

 

Of course, this was the case before

The virus, but today,

With mask and hat, nobody

Could ID me anyway.