I miss you like maps miss fingers,
Like mikes miss singers,
Like hells bells miss ringers,
Like bringers miss takers,
Like ******* miss fakers,
Like cakes miss bakers,
Like lakes miss boats,
Like bad swimmers miss floats,
Like politicians miss votes,
Like doting parents miss school plays,
Like nymphomaniacs miss lays,
Like hypochondriacs miss prescriptions,
Like ****** misses addictions,
Like carpets miss friction,
Like Billy Bunter misses midnight feasts,
Like the grim reaper misses grief,
Like Henry misses the good fellas,
Like sand sculptures miss umbrellas,
Like Rubix cube devotees miss puzzles,
Like rabid dogs miss muzzles,
Like Van Gough missed his brushes,
Like speed freaks miss rushes,
Like pens miss paper,
Like the Mona Lisa missed Pater,
Like the canvas misses the creator,
Like  the thirsty miss water,
Like the hungry miss food,
Like ***** miss the lewd,
Like the mind misses mood,
Like the tides miss the moon,
Like the sane miss the loons,
Like the dark misses the light,
Like the brave miss the fright,
Like the kite misses the wind.
I miss everything.

Life crumbles my visions asunder,
Ignorance shoves me into clumsy blunder,
Love throws me into the zone of blinder,
Forgetting that I'm a Pathfinder.

When life deprives me off the briddle,
When everything seems to be a puzzle,
When my story goes like a riddle,
In grief, I hear life playing it's own fiddle.

Heavy weight makes my legs jiggle,
My blistered feet make me stumble,
But 'they' see me and chuckle,
While they used to praise me in hotels.

Engineering renders me a plater,
In my own house, am made a janitor,
I date a ****** city bunter,
Money in my life is a gutter.

Physique portrays me of a working Caliber,
So they ask "Do you work here?"
Yet behind the curtains am a begger,
A begger in fashioned attire.

'Ello, 'ello, is that the coppers?
I got somefink 4 U and I don't tell no whoppers -
That fatboy Billy Bunter from Number 4
'E won't be coming 'ome no more
'Cos I 'eard 'im 'aving a row wiv 'is Dad, old Zorro
And 'e won't be seen about the place tomorrow.

Alas! Poor old Fat Boy Billy from Number 4
Is in some black bags lying outside the door:
So come along and get 'im, coppers,
Before the ******* foxes get all stressy
Wiv their ******* great choppers
Which will make it well ******* messy.

I miss you like maps miss fingers,
Like mikes miss singers,
Like bells miss ringers,
Like cakes miss bakers,
Like lakes miss boats,
Like bad swimmers miss floats,
Like politicians miss votes,
Like doting parents miss school plays,
Like nymphomaniacs miss lays,
Like necrophiliacs  miss graves,
Like hypochondriacs miss prescriptions,
Like ****** misses addictions,
Like carpets miss friction,
Like Billy Bunter misses midnight feasts,
Like the grim reaper misses grief,
Like Henry misses the goodfellas,
Like sand sculptures miss umbrellas,
Like Rubix cube devotees miss puzzles,
Like rabid dogs miss muzzles,
Like Van Gough missed his brushes,
Like speed freaks miss rushes,
Like pens miss paper,
Like the Mona Lisa missed Pater,
Like the canvas misses the creator,
Like how the thirsty miss water,
Like the hungry miss food,
Like ***** miss the lewd,
Like the mind misses mood,
Like the tides miss the moon,
Like the sane miss the loons,
Like the dark misses the light,
Like the brave miss the fright,
Like the kite misses the wind.
Like a phone misses a ring
Like every misses thing.

Dancing in the streetlight.
You take my hand,
And pull yourself to me.

Enveloped in the night,
Together we stand,
Beside the crashing sea.

The spark ignites.
This wasn't planned.
Under the influence of Bunter's Tea.

It's a bit like slamming on the brakes when all you have is what life takes and the winding down begins.  

These are the stakes and the fixed odds chance so you dance off down the road to dreams that fall at the final jump and you pump yourself back up and get back down to it.  

Easier to slit your throat or cut your wrists than scroll down all the losers, winners that you missed, the list is long, your time is short, getting caught out, being bought and sold out to the highest bidder who only ever wants to get rid of and you who should have known the breakdown was on the way say nothing when you could have rattled off some encyclopaedia. Spilled the beans on social media but you were always greedier than Bunter and now the hunter is the hunted, slammed the brakes on, shunted from behind to find that life is and can be that unkind.  

Its a never mind and I don't care, never wanted to be here and never ever there but it stares me in the face when I look at these things, place your bets and let's get real we've set the wheels in motion now they'll spin we'll win or lose and then somehow we'll come into our own, become the happiness in the happy home or slam the brakes on when this life's gone and that takes no time at all.