Old Wooden Fencepost

An old wooden fencepost; weathered and gray
Once stood with a purpose now just stands in the way
Once tall and strong, so long ago,
Now worn out and weakened as the years took its toll

Some old wire fencing clings to its back
Some rusty old staples keep it intact
It tugs on the fencepost when the winds blow
But the old wooden fencepost refuses to let go

So they dance, dance in the wind
Randomly, helplessly swinging swaying again
They dance, dance in the wind
The old wire fencing tugs on the old post and then
They dance in the wind

After all of those years with a purpose defined
Their role has now changed with the passage of time
Surviving the struggles, they have endured
Now they serve as a refuge for the weary winged bird

And they dance, dance in the wind
Randomly, helplessly swinging; swaying again
They dance, dance in the wind
The old wire fencing tugs on the old post and then
They dance in the wind