Beware, as you read this.  Proceed, if you must.

This tale contains great drama.  You’re worthy, I trust.

In the light of the early morn, I tried to pull my socks high.

But, no matter the leverage, they would not raise with each try.

The elastic was dead.  The stretchiness given way.

There was no more yield.  The socks would be a trial today.

I gave a big yank and my foot finally fit.

The problem would come later, with my foot’s desired exit.

They were now stuck way up my leg.

Freeing my limbs, I did now beg.

The only way out, was with a patient roll.

There’s something to be said for this virtue I rarely extol.

So be warned, those who hear.

Beware of your socks, I do fear.

For in a blink, in a wash, in a fateful turn.

Socks may lose their elasticity, the one thing I yearn.