"Crabby Old Man"
What do you see nurses? . . . . . What do you see?
What are you thinking ? . . . . . . When you're looking at me ?
A crabby old man . . . . . .. . . . . not very wise.
Uncertain of habit . . . . . . . . . . with far away eyes ?
Who dribbles his food . . . . . . . And makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . . ." I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice . . . . . . .The things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . . . . . . A sock or a shoe ?"
Who, resisting or not . . . . . . . . . Lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . . . The long day to fill ?
Is that what you're thinking . . . . Is that what you see ?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . . ... . . .As I sit here so still,
As i do at your bidding . .. . . . . . As I eat at your will
I'm a small child of ten . . . . . . . with a father and mother.
Brothers and sisters . . . . . . . . . who love one another.
A young boy of sixteen . . . . . . with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . . . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . . my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows . . . . . . that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five , now . . . . . . . . . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . . . . . And a happy secure home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . . . . . . . . . My young now grown fast.
Bound to each other . . . . . . . . . With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons . . . . . . have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more . . . . . . . . . . babies play around my knee,
Again we know children . . . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . . . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . . . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . . . . And nature is cruel.
'Tis jest to make old age . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . . . . . . grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone . . . . . . . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . . . . A young boy still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years . . . all too few . . . gone too fast
And accept the fact . . . . that nothing can last,
So open your eyes people . . . . open and see . .
Not a crabby old man. Look closer . . . see . . . ME !!
~ author unknown
Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who
you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within . .
we will all, one day, be there, too.