Tin Woman

Heaven’s stars where hollow sockets rise

‘Round skin as fair as young white rose petals

And hair that curtains lust before her eyes

She sees hearts of only precious metals

Or so Ignorance’s fog would believe

That all her misconceptions carry life

It comes most natural for her to deceive

At intervals when she can incite strife

Her eyes are clouded--taken from dead fish

While plastic skin turns grey under the sun

Lust lies flat, and much as lies may wish

Her cold tin figure holds love for no one

The storm has passed, and I see clear as day

There’s nothing for her own defence to say