Old Barn

There’s an old barn down the road from our house. It’s bent and bowed and one windy day away from completely succumbing to its aged disrepair. It’s midsection is stretched and swollen. The barn doors saggy and gaping. The once fresh, beautiful red paint is dull and cracked, even completely stripped clean away in some places. We’ll call her a She for the sake of this story. At one time, she was full of life. TeamIng with potential. Her red panels stood erect and strong, protecting every living being inside. She was proud and hopeful and happy. And then life happened. Storms and fires. Births and deaths. Years and years of giving without asking anything in return. Now here she sits. Alone. The world forever changing around her. Even the trees surrounding her sit leafless and wilted, branches weeping over the top of her lifeless structure. I wonder when she gave up? Or rather, I wonder when she was given up on?