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.


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