A concrete sock
A black sock made sodden by the rain have fused itself to the concrete floor.
Sacrificed to the elements, no longer having a purpose.
Trodden on by passers-by,
alone and scared.
With time the colour fades to a washed-out black and
shoes imprint their marks upon its woolly surface.
The rain washes away the dirt and sins,
while the sun warms the sock and makes it look fresh.
No longer fit for purpose,
no longer a pair,
the floor is now its destiny.
the sock still hopes for a second life as the
first snowflakes fall.