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a nice poem


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*HmS*deathwish

Wed Oct 21 2009

Registered Member #345

Joined: Sun Oct 31 2004
Location: peterborough. uk
Posts: 821

How poignant, a good lesson to us all.............

CRANKY OLD MAN
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing
home in country NSW, 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.
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.
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 vigor, 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!