Did the Tin Man Ever Grow Rusty?

Did the Tin Man Ever Grow Rusty?

Did the Tin Man ever slowly rust,

As seasons wrapped him soft in dust?

Did autumn leaves around him fall,

While memories whispered through them all?

Perhaps the rain left tiny marks,

Like silver freckles after dark.

Not signs of weakness or decay,

But proof he’d loved along the way.

His faithful joints may gently creak,

Though never once did courage weaken.

Each little scratch and weathered line

Became a badge of passing time.

The Yellow Brick Road still knew his tread,

Though Dorothy’s adventures had long fled.

He’d stop to greet each passing bird,

Listening more than speaking words.

Children smiled as they walked by,

Wondering why he’d wink an eye.

He’d simply nod with quiet grace,

Contentment shining on his face.

He learned that polished isn’t whole,

It’s kindness that preserves a soul.

The brightest steel may lose its gleam,

Yet never lose a hopeful dream.

For hearts are never judged by shine,

Nor measured by a flawless line.

They’re treasured by the love they share,

The gentle strength, the constant care.

If ever age should visit you,

And silver replace youthful hue,

Remember what the Tin Man knew…

A loving heart stays bright and true.

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