Poetry : Your insistent disregard for my blatant sexual desire for you, has left me bored of life and equally unfulfilled at the prospect of death

Through grimy back door pubs,

Through lonely time-stopped queues,

Through dour, drab taxi ranks,

I still couldn't find you.

Through green growing hills,

Through the layered dog poo,

Through rotten, starving live stock,

I still couldn't find you.

Through towns without a home,

Through greyscale avenues

Through tenants housed to die,

I still couldn't find you.

Through slave driven commodities,

Through a tongue-scorching brew,

Through worn, cracked china plates

I still couldn't find you.

Through the latest playground fad,

Through middle-class fondue,

Through kids mixing in adult games,

I still couldn't find you.

Through the shoes of the crocodile,

Through the meals on kangaroo,

Through piano's played by elephants,

I still couldn't find you.

Through all the different mindsets,

Through each day being your debut,

Through different reactions to mundane things,

I still couldn't find you.

Through spelling your name with an S,

Through getting a tattoo,

Through realising your name was spelt with a C,

I still couldn't find you.

Through finding different cultures,

Through escapades in Peru,

Through finding culture all the same,

I still couldn't find you

Through smothered in my bed all day,

Through catching my final flu,

Through realising t'was but a cold,

I still couldn't find you

Through waking up for twenty years,

Has faded life to blue

And death's as exciting as tea at nans

So I just don't know what to do.

Tom Peel

Feedback appreciated