Torn Socks

I took my shoes off, the socks were torn,
Peaking toes shied away from the cold marble floor,
I hoped no one noticed or cared,
That I hadn’t really bothered to coordinate the pair,
I chanted but my words were lost,
For five long minutes it’s all I thought,
Conscious of every glance, every cough,
This one man was rather irritating,
Standing at the periphery of my vision,
He continued staring; I closed my eyes to sing,
By now socks had become God,
Omnipresent, omniscient, they invaded my world,
Fine, today was one of those days when peace was not to be found,
I sat down to tie the laces,
The man came to wear his slippers,
I couldn’t help but take a look at him; one side of his face was distorted,
The eyes I thought were staring at my socks squinted in comfort,
And he walked with a limp,
I thought wrong,
There are more troubles in this world than a pair a of torn socks,
I have never felt so foolish before,
That’s how many of us live…wrapped up in our world.

The Song Of The Sufi Masroof