My Stash, English poetry, humour

Alas I lack knowledge of my stash,
Perchance it doth lie wherein
Spider stalks her catch?
Among the cigarette ash
Lying strewn about my room
Under this coffee stained letter perhaps?
I know I had a stash!

Ideas course around my brain
Lost stash driving me insane
Manic rummaging in frenzy
It was there and there was plenty

Casting chipped crockery aside
Shaking things then looking inside
Finally, I breathe a heavy sigh
Drawing the inevitable conclusion
The stash is a lie
Its existence delusion.