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Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #2272125
just an old, dilapidated barn
There you stand
         weathered
                   and worn
                             a relic of another day.

Greying boards
         bent
                   and broken
                             crumble from decay.

Your roof,
         once high
                   has fallen down
                             letting the weather inside.

Rotting walls
         still surround
                   what we had
                             carelessly thrown aside.

Now wild things
         raise their
                   young within,
                             your walls, an amenity.

But Oh!
         the memories
                   you invoke
                             with your aged majesty!

About this poem:
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