Tiny socks for tiny feet
Laying here and there
On the floor
Behind the door
Picking them up becomes such a chore

They fall away from piles, through basket holes
A precious reminder of that fat little soul, so sweet
Sweet little covers for those fat little feet

And some day, I imagine, I’ll loathe and abhor
All those big, sweaty socks he’ll leave on the floor
But for now I sigh, and smile, and pick up yet another

Of those tiny socks for tiny feet
Laying here and there
On the floor, behind the door
A precious reminder of that soul, so sweet
And his chubby, pink, perfect little feet