Thursday 10 July 2014


I'm posting a post which I have published 2 years ago on my wordpress blog. Never no harm to remind ourselves, that one day were are, maybe, going to be there ourselves one day!


When a old man had died in the geriatric  ward  of a nursing home in North Platte, Nebraska, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later when the nurses went through his meager belongings, they found this poem. It’s quality was so impressive that the nurses made copies and started to distribute it.
What do you see nurses? What do you see? What are you thinking when you are 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 aloud voice ‘I do wish you try!’ Who seems not to notice the things that you do. And forever is losing, a sock or a 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 a 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 grow 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, one more. Babies play’ around 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 am now an old man and nature is cruel. T’is 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 guy still dwells. And now and again my battered heart swells. I remember the joy I remember the pains. 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 time meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within……we will all, one day, be there, too!

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