To the Tinman:

An Ode to Oxidation
OR:
You gotta come down!


Footsteps leave craters,
scream like train-wrecks
with every move. Friends
and enemies flee toward
commotion.

Stolid armor deflects what
axe-play cannot. Always ready
to strike, wit cleaves egos, idiocy,
injustice. An unblockable blow.
Your steel embrace has room for few
but they suffer no trial alone.
The rest can burn.

A metal man cannot hide
in a crowd. The embraced
realize the light surrounding is not
reflection (it shines even in darkness).
They draw strength from the
luminescence erupting from scars
and welded joints.

Keep clearing the road not taken
for though not easy,
your heartache is never lost.