POEM.::: Cranky Old Man.

When an old man died in geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian         country town, it was believed that he had nothing left  of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions they found a poem. It’s quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the nursing home.

One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man’s sole  bequest to posterity has since appeared in Christmas edition 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  with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this — ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the internet.

                                             POEM.::: Cranky Old Man. 

What do you see nurses?                                              what do you see?

What are you thinking                                                   when you are looking at me

A Cranky Old man                                                          wot very wise.

Uncertain of habit                                                           with far away eyes.

Who dribbles his food                                                     and makes no reply

When you say in a loud voice                                         I do wish you’d try

Who says 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 way to fill.

Is that what you are thinking                                         is that what you see

Then open your eyes, nurse                                            you are 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 am 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’am 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.

This poem originally by Phyllis McCormack.

The best and most beautiful things of this world can’t be seen or touched.

They must be felt by the heart.

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6 Responses to POEM.::: Cranky Old Man.

  1. kalabalu says:

    Stages of life passed by in a whim, but inside the aged body the young heart remained, alive and happy , loving and strong, maybe a frail body but a mind that think for long. Old man in not cranky, he is just unwell..the poem he wrote was certainly written well..now he is dead, but he left a message for me..always look for the person and not the way it appears to be..old or ugly, fat or thin people got a real heart and good mind within.

  2. vision5d2012 says:

    Thank you for this beautiful reminder to look with the eyes of Love upon all we see. Blessings

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