The Mechanical Boy

This is an ode to a mechanical boy
Who hid from the world in the way he knew how
When flesh and bone could bring him no joy
And being a boy was too hard, too hard

Here he is standing in a room, and within
When no one is watching we see how he changes
Slowly the skin is no longer his skin
And where once there were fingers now a wire dangles

With each minute passing, his flesh growing tougher
It appears that his arms will no longer function
He watches and waits, with no desire to suffer
And so they come off with tubes to replace them

The doctors stand by with their mouths all agaping
They can't understand the boy's transformation
They can't see the heart now is no longer beating
For there in its place is a standard transmission

Each day observe how the boy turns to metal
And each night his organs transmute into parts
That work so that he doesn't feel but a little
And keep what is fragile from falling apart