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. | |
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. | |
[Another of those wonderful poems and inspirational words which end up making it to the internet and touching thousands of people. I found this on a blog I follow maintained by David Kanigan: Lead.Learn.Live | |
http://davidkanigan.com/2012/08/19/cranky-old-man/ | |
If you have a chance, please visit David’s site and thank him for sharing this with us… — KMAB] | |
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Cranky Old Man
September 12, 2012 by kmabarrett
Thanks for sharing Kevin
The honor is to serve… (or in this case, to share.)