The old door
 

The old door stood, faded paint peeling

Latches just holding on.

It was many years since it had been used.

It had been the door to many adventures

It had once been a hiding spot for 

The young children who had played hide and seek behind it.

It had been the entrance to the workroom for the farmer who had attached it and painted it with care 

It had been the entrance to a storage area for the young couple who had inherited it.

Now, it stood alone the entrance to an empty room filled with nothing more than the ghosts of former occupants 

It stood waiting to be cared for and be painted and used once more.

It wondered if it would be restored to its former glory or would it be pulled down along with the room behind it and find itself being used to keep someone warm on a cold winters night

As it slowly burnt to ash 

 

                                 Composed By

                                 Jenni Burt ©