CLOCKWORK

Clockwork soldiers, unwound keepsakes of a childhood playtime
Lacklustre now, their paintwork pockmarked after threescore years
Overlooked in peacetime, all warfare deemed to be vainglory
Counterpoised one hairsbreadth from the edge of heartfelt tears
Kinsfolk are outcast, foresworn in this roughhewn age of nitwits
Woolgathering over playthings, meanwhile pussyfooting around rawboned fears
Outmoded figurehead, praiseworthy freethinker, or foolhardy laughingstock
Ringleaders cannot be wallflowers and cry crestfallen in their beers
Killjoys notwithstanding, without a mainspring there is only broken clockwork