A pair of baby socks;

Pure white like snow;

Soft and warm like a hug;

smaller than the palms

of my new parents' hands.

Free of loose strings,

holes and stains;

A blank page to write

my story on as I grow.

Four sizes up,

The gripper-socks experienced

my first wobbly steps.

From there, a whole world

of dirt stains and snags from furniture

awaited my socks, as I expand on my

new abilility to explore.

Several sizes later, 

rainbows covered my toddler toes

to match my colorful imagination

and happy-go-lucky attitude.

Grass stains from playing 

in the backyard with the dog,

and dust bunnies I had gathered

from 'skating' across the hardwood floors

lived on the soles of my socks.

Worn toddler socks were found 

all across the house;

like a trail of breadcrumbs,

that led to a fairy princess

having a tea party in her room.

Socks became more uniform

As the years went on.

A result of myself,

Trying to fit in at school

And be like everyone else.

Sporty Nike socks played soccer at recess;

Striped pink socks from Justice

Stood in groups and gossiped

About sleepovers that the plain socks 

Weren't invited to.

As I entered the world of

Teenaged sock sizes

I felt myself growing in

More ways than just my socks.

Still young, still wanting to fit in,

I begged for the cool socks,

and left my favorite polka dotted pairs

In the bottom drawer to collect dust.

As I matured with my peers, 

I found some pairs of socks

had separated and gotten lost;

like friends who parted ways.

I hoped that we would reunite, 

and that one day my socks

would be together again.

Teenage heartbreak and

High school drama left holes,

loose strings, and stains from

memories both good and bad,

but remained wash after wash;

to be remembered.

I started to figure out more about myself,

and realized that my old colorful socks,

needed to make their way 

back onto my feet, 

to remind me of the palette,

that made me... me.

Some socks that had once been thought lost,

by fate, were found in unexpected places 

and were brought back into my life.

Through the years, I experimented

with different styles to find the perfect fit

in hopes that it would make me happy.

I finally settled with my childhood favorite

The striped socks I wore

when all I cared about

was finding a way out of naptime.

My stripes carry me through the halls

saying hello and smiling at new faces

and old friends who are also 

in search of their perfect pair of socks.

I know that as I continue to age,

More holes, stains,

snags, and loose strings,

will continue to find a way into my life. 

My decision to mend, or 

eventually replace with new,

will be on me, quite literally.

When its time to move on

from that worn, tattered pair,

I hope to have the maturity to let go

and open my eyes to all of the new possibilities.

My socks have always been,

and will continue to be,

my personal object of support;

my reminder of who I am

when I get lost among other socks.

And one day, I will bring a

new pair of socks home,

Pure white, like snow

a new page for a new life

that will one day write its own story 

on its own pair of special socks.