Married To the Tin Man

Rust ate away the Tin Man's heart, but I never stopped loving. After abandoning me, who wouldn't need a wizard's magic to restore some semblance of feeling? Loving me was like loving a tin can: I always had something to offer. Loving him was no more than loving tin foil: he crumpled from every wifely demand. After passion had worn out his iron cock, he marched into the woods -- as he fled, my desperate words flung from a resolute mouth bounced harmlessly off an impenetrable backside. I cried, threw things, carried on for days, but nothing flipped the switch in his mind. [The robot was intent on leaving me.] So alone as I was, I did not regret my actions: I sold that bastard's heart to a junkyard. This poem appears online at Words are a Need. http://wordsareaneed.blogspot.com/2014/07/married-to-tin-man.html