His eyes are big
But his heart’s so small
Sometimes you look into his eyes
But realise you feel nothing at all.
He’s actually quite tall,
But his temper is so short
It’s like looking at the king of love
Before he becomes too angry to hold court.
And his hoodie is so comforting
And so very warm
It always surprises you when it becomes a straitjacket
With the little leather laces torn.
You want to finish with him
Or at least go off him
But when he does that grin
It’s always apparent you just can’t win.