23 July 2012
There was once a clockwork army man His heart was rusted round the edge. He watched his brother, Tin Soldier, burn As he sat upon the window ledge.
His winding peg was left, no longer wound He sat among the settling dust. He forgave the little girl, though, Doing what she must.
He watched her grow into a child To teen, to adult, to old, His clockwork frown grew permanent And he sat between the mould.
His clockwork suit and clockwork gun They shuddered to a stop. The rain fell on his forlorn face He savoured every drop.
The little clockwork army man With a heart with rusted edge Forgotten, left for no one there Sat broken on the window ledge.
Clockwork Tears • Opuss № I