C x32010
F x3321x

Like a battle worn shoulder, its faithfully stood
A modest creation, built mostly of wood
But time and neglect, they’ve taken their toll
And now grandpa’s barn, stands forgotten and old.

The roof has turned brown, from the rust on the tin
Any day now the whole thing, could come tumbling in
The hinges have rusted, on the big oaken doors
And johnson grass grows through, the cracks in the boards.

In the mainger hangs single trees, harness and such
Where he left them there covered, with cobwebs and dust
There’s his old slick fork saddle, he was once a cowboy
It’s a shame what the years and the mice will destroy.

There’s a chill in the loft now, its silent and stale
Where grand children play, in sweet clover bails
Where raindrops were lullabies, on dark stormy days
For little girls and kittens, asleep in the hay.

I remember the sound, of an old man’s laughter
But now all I hear, is the wind in the rafters
And it speaks of a sadness, that times passing brings
And makes faded old memories and tobacco juice stains.

But old barns they vanish, like castles of sand
Their glory fades quickly, like youth from a man
For a season they’ll bloom, shinning fruits of his toll
Then in times deadly grip, they crumble back into soil.

Abandoned it stands, like ancient grey ghost
Surrounded by weeds and rotten fence posts
Its a bitter sweet relic, of an old man and his farm
I close the gate for the last time, as I leave grandpa’s
barn.