More years than I care to recall now

Have chipped away the peeling paint,

Soaked thick by countless sudden storms

And blistered thin by summer suns.

A conscientious man would know

There is something being asked of him;

Some act of preservation to protect

Not only his place but more his pride.

But what I know is soon north winds

Will strip away what is left and winter

Will whitewash these walls with weather

As we endure together one more season.