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 faraway 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 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 secure happy 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 ‘round 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 … . . 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 guy 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 stark fact … . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people … . . open and see.
Not a crabby old man … Look closer .… see ME!!
Remember this poem when you next meet an older person
i got this as an email an older gentlman wrote it
