Good Morning Mister Blue

I wrote this poem yesterday. Part 1 is supposed to be read as quickly as possible and Part 2 can be read fast too, but it'll be more emotional if you slow it down. Anyway, enjoy.

GOOD MORNING MISTER BLUE
a poem by Rob

Part 1

A sock is a sock unless it's a sock,
Unless it's a sock that's a sock that's a sock.
But you Mister Blue, not a sock but a sock,
Not a sock but a sock through and through.

And you?
And you Mister Blue?
And you Mister Blue is this true?

The dryer on STOP with my clothes up on top,
That freshman I caught and his things in my spot,
I took all my stuff off the dryer top
"Huff"
Was the sound that I made as I prayed and I prayed
That my things that I brings to my room all in gloom
Would be there wrapped with care as I stare--stare in there--
In the bag with my clothes as I sag
With the weight of the hate and the pain and disdain
He's so vain to have taken my clothes out but he'll feel my bane
'Cause I stopped his dumb dryer half-cycle, half-cocked,
I'm happy--so happy--my actions just rocked!

But alas. Pains my ass.
Not quite even. Downright odd.
5...6...7? Where's my eight?
Fuckin' great.

Part 2

Good morning Mister Blue, this shoe?
Oh yes, that's true, this shoe's for you.
The zoo? Of course.
If that is what you'd like to do,
Come let us zoo and zoo and zoo.

But not today, no zoo for you,
You've gone you've left it's toodle-oo.
I don't know how I don't know when,
My Blue shall we not meet again?

I searched and searched but came up bare,
I searched the trash, I searched in there.
The floor, the sink, the skating rink
I even stopped for a mixed drink.

Now drunk I never faltered once,
I kept my vigilance amongst.
The alcohol runs through my veins,
Passed softly yet my heart still pains.

I never once gave up the hope
But soon I found I lived to mope.
The sadness permeates my soul
And where you were now lies a hole.

A sock hole, yes. Ironic, no?
You've left your other half, your bro.
My foot is cold, frostbitten toe,
And where you lie I shalln't know.

I only dream you've found a place
Amongst your kind, the "Lost Sock Race."
Perhaps one day we'll meet again,
When now is past and then was then.

Until that day I'll wait for you,
There is no thing I'd rather do.
And when that day comes when we meet,
I shall caress you on my feet.

But nothing will be quite as sweet
As when we greet when we first meet.
I'll take you in my hands anew
And be one thing I'll say to you:

"From you to me, from me to you,
A smile, a tear, a hug for two.
I wish you'd never said adieu,
I love you love you Mister Blue."