Tin Man

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i am nobody
(we are the nobodies)
i see nothing, i hear the breeze
with my stomach twisted and biting--
with my mind engulfed and entrenched--
i wrestle free from heartache, from
from aches
from taking free
--away--

these are not the happy thoughts
of old, youths, and fledgling words

these are the eternities spent tucked
nift and deft and pickled and fickle

my heart is rusted and tin
tampered and dent
din, the sounds of furious swipes
scythes running across fields
barley and rye
where my childhood lied
now ruins, now tunes thrown from south
airy, cheery gold-dirt lands
still i stand, forlorn
brimming with pride, alone
a warning

i am still the tin man.

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