Socks

Two mismatched socks do I wear,
Down upon my feet;
One is old and loose and worn,
The other snug and neat.

And as I skip and walk and stroll,
All about the town,
Not a worry's paid the younger sock;
its mate keeps falling down!

Perhaps I should too mention,
That the elder sock,
Despite its threadbare, stubborn nature,
Sure has seen alot.

And though its younger counterpart,
Trustworthy and fair,
May not have seen as many steps,
Together they're a pair.