Pinocchio had died in a fire,

His body charred and red.

His family burned to nothing but ash.

He was the only body found dead.

 

Geppetto was a doctor assigned to the autopsy.

His hobbies included tinkering along with some witchery.

But in his profession he worked on the dead,

Discovering how they were hit in the head.

And never did he have the idea

Of combining his hobby and work.

 

They wheeled Pinocchio into the lab.

They lied him down upon the slab.

Only a red and black silhouette of a boy,

But Geppetto envisioned a new kind of toy.

He told no one and never admitted,

But started to think about wood to be fitted.

Instead of his work he tinkered away,

All through the night and into the day.

And from the dusk and through the dawn

He sang a bright and merry song:

 

‘Oh boy, my boy,

You fill me with glee,

A beautiful puppet you shall be

Real boy, real boy,

New skin I will carve you

And bring you back to life too

A tragedy befell you poor boy

But now you shall live on as a toy!’

 

Geppetto had fashioned the perfect toy

With the structure of the mangled boy.

He sought the Madame Fairy Blue,

And she knew just what to do.

With the flick of her wrists and some incantations

The toy became a revelation.

Pinocchio could talk and walk, just like the boy he was before.

Geppetto jumped around with joy.

He saved the dear charred little boy.

 

Fatherhood to the new toy boy

Had proved to be a bit less than joy.

The boy was mischievous,

Troublesome, grievous.

Geppetto was beside himself.

 

The magic had its malfunctions.

Pinocchio’s nose grew when he deceived,

And his memory was quite bereaved.

Geppetto felt a strong regret.

He made a plan and it was set.

 

He drank some magic potion

Then sank into the ocean.

Geppetto was eaten by a whale,

And that is the end of the tale.