CRANKY OLD MAN'S POEM

When an old man died in the 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 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 Melbourne. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions 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 left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.

_____________________

*Cranky Old Man*

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!!* 

___________________________

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!

PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM!

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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