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. |
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[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 |
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http://davidkanigan.com/2012/08/19/cranky-old-man/ |
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If you have a chance, please visit David’s site and thank him for sharing this with us… — KMAB] |
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