A Crabby Old Man

Feb 21, 2012, 11:57 AM |

Boby's cousin posted this on Facebook, thought I would share as it is  a

good reminder to all of us..

When an old man died in the geiatric ward of  Nursing Home in North Platre Nebraska,

it was believed that he had nothing left of any value..

Later when the Nurses wee going throughHis meager possessions, they found this poem....Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copieswere made and disributed to every Nurse in the Hospital...The POE

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,

Deaming 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 with each other... With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons...have grown and are gone..

But my woman beside me...to see I dont mourn.

At Fifty, once more... babies play round my knees

Again we know Childreen... My loved one and me,

Dark days are uopn me...my wife is now dead.

i look at this 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 am an old man....and nature is cruel,

Tis jest to make an old man...look like a foul.

The body it crumbles... grace and vigar departs

There is now s 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 accept the stark fact...that nothing lasts

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 with looking at the young soul inside.. We will all one day be there too..

The best adn most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched... They must be felt by the HEART...

By Keith A. Wells Sr,