Harrys Malarkey

You’re like burnt coffee

Bitter and hot

You’re like a Monday morning in mid May

You’re like the last drag of a cigarette

You’re like a paper-cut waiting to happen

You’re like the end of a terribly shit film

That took hours out of your day to sit down and hope for a worthy minute or so

You’re like sixty stinging sunburns

Blistering the trial and error

You’re like a handrail in central London

You’re almost enough for me

It's unfortunate 

That you're like them and they're not like you.