CRABBY OLD MAN
What do you see nurses? What do you see?
What are you thinking When you’re looking at me?
A crabby 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’s 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 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.
Tis 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 guy 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 crabby old man Look closer . .. . See ME!!
Love it forever. I’ve always been sensitive to old people (I’m becoming one myself…lol) and I’ve always taken the time to know the person within them. It always amazes me that people who are insensitive don’t realize they’ll be in that position too someday.
Young, thank you for this. It brings tears to my eyes. I have seen it happen too many times. Yes, there is still that real person there. Let us all remember that.
I appreciate this poem foreveryoung, I was tired last night when I read and reread this blog. This world needs compassion and not passiveness. I must have wrote 4 different comments and erased them, except for this poem of sort that I wrote and kept. So here it is,
I know that my mind is not sharp like before
It takes longer today to remember
Give me some time, what is the hurry
Can’t you see that I am trying
Lead me back slowly once more
To where I was younger
When I was happy
Without trying.
Thank you davidrv – I’m glad this touched you xo
The cycle of life has highs and lows at every age.
The memories and experiences of the older are not there for the younger.
The vigor and strength of the younger are not there for the older.
The real trick is to make the most of what we do have at any give time.
True james2
I’ve read this poem quite some time ago loved it then, and still do now ….Having worked in assisted living communities I have had the opportunity to talk with many who had wonderful stories to tell but just needed a little help. Many struggled with being told they needed to ask for help before doing what always came natural to them. They don’t always understand.
Memories of those days are clear but todays happenings leave their mind quickly. Respect them because we are all getting older and what goes around comes around. Thanks for the post.