|
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an
Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any
value.
Later,
when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They found this
poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made
and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One
nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man's sole bequest to posterity
has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the
country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has
also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.
And
this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of
this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.
Cranky Old Man
What
do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What
are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A
cranky 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 is 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 ... . . . . I shudder with dread. cranky old man .
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.
It's
jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The
body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There
is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But
inside this old carcass . A young man 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 cranky old man
Look
closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!
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!
|
