Author:
little grasshopper
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Date Posted: 17:29:49 06/22/11 Wed
Author Host/IP: CPE-124-181-209-198.lnse3.win.bigpond.net.au/124.181.209.198
In reply to:
Lim Khoy Hing
's message, "Re: Next Class Get-together for 2011" on 11:35:13 06/22/11 Wed
> > When an old man died in the geriatric
> > ward of a nursing home in Bowral. 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.
> > 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!!
> >
> >
> > Remember this poem when you next meet
> > an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young
> > soul within.
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