Unlike The Tin Man
Love becomes us, but when?
Is it through the moment where mother's
milk we suckle
Or upon our very first kiss?
Unlike the Tin Man we are born
with this remarkable muscle
Used and abused, we weather storms
internally, each of us differently
Unlike the Tin Man, grow numb through
heartbreak, bouncing back through adversity
Our walk to see the wizard never transpires
but retires to where it all began
Home is where the heart is, and I miss her and
my heart
Unlike the Tin Man who never had one
Edwin Flores
Copyright November 28, 2010
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