Another poem by moi,dedicated to my long suffering wifey and her washing machine

The washing machine has eaten all of my socks

The washing machine has eaten all of my socks
I have few clothes left and hardly any jocks.
That bloody machine is always hungry
And the wife can't see why I am so grumpy.
I gave her my good shirt ten years ago
And where it has gone I just don't know.
It might still fit me and it might not,
I really do think this part of a plot
As clothes disappear that I have not seen,
My navy blue jumper and my jacket of green.
Baskets of washing are piled all around
But when I look for something it can never be found.
If I go around stark naked will something be done?
Even as the cold weather makes me feel quite numb.
My mother was right she said I'd come to no good
When I wouldn't wash my clothes like she said that I should.
I have no trousers left now to cover my bum
And I cannot go drinking to have some fun
I could go outside wrapped in our big rug,
I could say it's the fashion when I go down the pub.
Though I kept one jumper, hidden in a cardboard box,
The washing machine has eaten all of my socks.