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CRABBY OLD
MAN
For all of us, who will be there one day!
When an old man
died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North
Platte , Nebraska , 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 Missouri . The old man's sole
bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News
Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation
has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.
And this
little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of
this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.
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 . . . . and see ME!!
Remember this poem when you
next meet an older person, man or woman, who you might brush aside without
looking at the young soul within we will all, one day, be there, too!
