Distraught

A draught without 'ist,' a concert without Liszt,   
I think of all the things that I often missed;
I saw the cricket although no one was watching it,
motor racing was fine, Lewis was a friend of mine. 

He said that life was unreal, too busy for Nicole,
also don't believe all that misreported hyperbole,
the apartment in Monaco, the tax-free haven,
so he didn't have to live in Stevenage ever again.

I wondered about the parties, black lives matter,
but of course, that was the former not the latter;
Kipling said: 'Lucky to be English,' black or white?
Sorry chaps but there is no contest, try as you might.

We stood on the balcony looking at the boats below,
with a laughing moon: 'Close the door when you go.'