Old barns, and our American Heritage

I am an old barn

Your great grandfather built me
He built me to last
I am a symbol of your heritage
I have seen the dawn of two centuries
Yet I still stand
I have blocked the wind
I have shut out the rain
I have sheltered your animals,
from snow drifts, and cold
My lofts held mountains of hay,
and my timbers held firm

So why have you abandoned me?
Why are my lofts empty?
Where have all the horses gone?
Where have all the cattle gone?
Why is my roof leaking?
Why are my timbers creaking?
Why is my foundation crumbling?

I have been strong, but,
I have begun to fear,
My roof has begun to sag,
My timbers, have begun to slip,

Am I to become like,
the barn next door?
It slowly faded away,
A rotten pile of wood,
is all that remains.

Is this the destiny I face?
To be left to crumble!
Don’t let me fade away!
I want to be used again!