Pondering the other sock

loking at what happens to all the things that we lose in life, from that other sock to our childhood dreams.

I wonder where that other sock goes

or what happens to that missing belt never found

Does it attach itself to a child's dream

and like a kite take to the sky?

Or does it instead, like cultures long dead,

hide deep beneath the ground?

Where do the lost and broken toys

played with just yester-year

tuck themselves away?

Have they found some other child

with small eyes twinkling and gay?

or have they drifted off

as a peice of recent history

to pick up the dust of modern times

leaving us with just a mystery?