Let Me Get To The Point
Let me get to the point,
by Lawrence S. Pertillar
And not be a twit about this!
I don't know who it was...
Or when it happened.
Someone came into my home,
And rifled through my sox...
To mix them up on purpose.
That's the only explanation there is,
As to 'why' I can not seem to find...
A matching pair.
I would blame my nephew,
But he already thinks,
I am not mentally stable.
He 'thinks' he knows EVERYTHING.
I would say that runs through the family.
But he does play the role of Sherlock.
He has not said this to me directly,
He has given me a certain 'look'.
Whenever he believes I've been out of touch.
I would accuse my niece, Shayla.
But she would go on and on,
About me being forgetful.
It just has to be someone else.
Would do such a thing?