Crabby Old Man

 

 

When an old man died in the geriatric ward 

of a nursing home in GRASS VALLEY, CA.

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 home.

 

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...

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!

 

 

The best and most beautiful things of this world 

can't be seen or touched.  They must be felt by

the heart