Walking through the streets,
we always encounter some very old and rickety men who look like lost in another
world. Often we wonder why they look so distraught and flustered. Pondering
upon such thoughts for a few seconds, we continue to our path and forget all
about it very soon. The fact which no youth think of or rather, don’t want to
think of is old age. Here is a poem of an old man on his deathbed which he has
written to the nurses who are appointed for his under taking. What he thinks of
them, of his perspective and the life which he has seen. Feel free to leave
your feedback and 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……………………
That 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!!
*Inspired by the poem 'The old man' by David l. Griffith
