*An Old Man Died* by jaQui 2013/12/28 23:19
elderhelpers.org
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
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! PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM (originally by Phyllis McCormack; adapted by Dave Griffith) The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched. They must be felt by the heart!
elderhelpers.org
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
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! PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM (originally by Phyllis McCormack; adapted by Dave Griffith) 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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