No Tears Left

                   No Tears Left.

                   My name is Arthur Mann,
                   I'm ninety-six years old.
                   I'm half the Mann I used to be,
                   quite literally I'm told.

                   I'm built of man-made fibres
                   from my head down to my feet.
                   I'm a miracle of modern science,
                   with prosthetics I'm complete.

                   I live in sheltered housing,
                   I've got a panic-alarm.
                   How am I supposed to use it,
                   If I've only got one arm?

                   I get by the best I can,
                   but sometimes it's a struggle,
                   and I can do most anything,
                   well everything but juggle.

                   The strangest thing of all
                   is I've got two false legs.
                   Surgeons did a marvellous job
                   replacing double pegs.

                   But this you‘ll find extraordinary,
                   it really is a treat.
                   I've got double wooden legs
                   but kept my real feet.

                   So much reconstruction,
                   but is it all worthwhile;
                   if I am all alone, with
                   no one to share a smile?

                   My wife has sadly passed,
                   and I am left bereft.
                   With one glass-eye I've tears right,
                   but I've no tears left.