The Tin Man: Where Went Oz?

First my heart was broken and then it simply ceased to be.
Beating seemed so senseless if it couldn’t beat for she.
She left me bruised, battered; too weak the world to feel.
So I grew cold cathartic, switched soft skin for shiny steel.

I wandered to meet the Wizard but he did not have a clue.
The world lacks magic wonders when left so low and blue.
What words would repair ruined romance, free from this hell?
Left lost with no way back, click heels but there’s no spell.

In the Emerald City, our pretty promises used to glisten.
There they lie limp liars, lost lions whimper – listen.
Each every “Emerald” exposed as cracked green glass.
Smashed, scattered, shattered; dreams don’t come to pass.

My joints are stiff, still sulking, my limbs begin to rust.
I move mechanically, morbidly, barely doing what I must.
My axe arm’s always aching, swings slowly against a tree.
Wonder if it would be better if the next thing felled was me?

There’s no desire, no thirst & there’s nothing sweet to eat.
I see the yellow brick road but know no reason to move feet.
But what if I had courage and let hope have root in brain?
Could I grow another heart, learn to trust and love again?

In my world of wicked witches, where have the good girls gone?
I wander woods without them, tears trickling viewed by none.
If I could learn love again and to grow a healthy heart anew,
oh, how I would love to love someone sweet such as you!

Red roses plucked are rotting, blue bluebirds cannot cheep.
Do I dare to love again and risk more wounds oceans deep?

Copyright © 2016 Philip Craddock. All rights reserved.

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