I am solitary but craving
My emotional mis behaving
Is always the death of romance
Catatonic trance.
The boy stares mute
Screeching approach the female resolute
On solving the puzzle
On why the boy is a muddy muddle
Of thought
He tried to, but
Sensitive the sentence delivered
A hard shell pretence
He is dying inside
Trying inside to hide the hurt
Try hard to make it work
You wonderful boy
I see your soul
That’s why I cling
You bath a solemn shoal
And vulnerable she said.
Pray she said, they will
On the blushing boy
Shy
For accumulated strength
Finally runs dry
Under pressure
And although he feels
Made to measure
This hand does not fit the glove
This push and shove away
When lips collide, female
An affray
The umbrella of alcohol
And the sober dismay
Of the morning

What a very beautiful poem Peter, filled with emotions, very sad also for the central character.
xxx