Sorry.

Such fragile things you gave me.
A paper crane
And a robin's egg
With delicacy laid at my feet.
Feet belonging to an iron giant.
Clumsy and cold.
I do not always see just what it is
That I am doing.
Only what I have done.
I am broken.
And I am mistaken.
How far I've fallen, deep and fast.
A junkyard at the bottom of a cliff.
So keep the bird in your heart,
Because tin men like me
Should not be trusted
With such treasures.