Boris

Boris, we looked. We couldn’t find it.
We looked all day, and couldn’t find it.
My friend, the ingenious red-scarf bandit,
Said he’d find it. He couldn’t find it.

My other pal, equipped with yellow
Backpack, stuffed with handy devices
(Assorted magnifying glasses,
A compass and a small umbrella),

Retraced your steps and thought you might
Have dropped it on your way to work,
Stumbling along, drunk in the dark,
Perhaps around the garden gate.

We searched the bushes carefully.
We stooped and peered. We sniffed the air.
We could not see it anywhere.
Oh where is your INTEGRITY?

It’s child’s play, some say. But, blast it,
We couldn’t find it, though we tried
And tried and tried and tried and tried.
Maybe, Boris, it never existed?