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This blog is to no-one in particular, I just felt like this poem deserved some more recognition.

Basically this is a poem that was found after the old man who'd imagined it died.
He lived in a nursing home and was thought to have had nothing left in the world to give.
The nurses found this poem amonst his personal effects and it's since been passed on to publishers.
It's simple. Eloquent. And above all it's moving.

It's sad. But at the same time, it's very uplifting.

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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. 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.
'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!

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I don't know about anyone else, but I cried when I read this.

It's a shame that we judge others so readily. That we only see what was there once it's gone.

This is a blog for no-one and everyone. I have nothing more to say.

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