An Old Man’s Poem. (This made me cry.)
photo: Matt Pettengill
Got this from Facebook, and it moved me to tears.
Perhaps because I am not getting any younger, and I can see my life thus far following this man’s description.
I wish he was around so that I could give him a hug and let him know he is loved, but alas, he has passed. Maybe another lesson here is to share that love with others while they are around to accept it? To steal a line from one of my favorite Pearl Jam lyrics (to Love Boat Captain):
“And the young, they can lose hope cause they can’t see beyond today,…
The wisdom that the old can’t give away”
Man, if we’d only listen from time to time! Anyway, I hope this has an effect on you as well.
♥
{While the source of the poem has been questioned, the sentiment is beautiful. Enjoy! ~ ed.}
Cranky Old Man
(Originally by Phyllis McCormack; adapted by Dave Griffith)
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 vigour, 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!!
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Incorrect source, offensive, or found a typo? Or do you want to write for Elephant?
Thank you for sharing this Tom…definitely slows down this marathon we call "living."
As it should! The poem, to me, isn't about this old man or his life, it is about how this experience could be used by me to make each…moment a testament to the experience I am having…LIFE! Slow it down…enjoy it…savor it…and don't rush off to the next moment or look forward.
A lesson well learned!
Of course YOU would find this, Tom. It is beautiful and made me cry.
Just intro'd on FB to: Enlightened, Health & Wellness, Love & Family.
~Mamaste
Sharon…beauty knows beauty. Period.
what a wonderful poem. thank you for sharing.
I am craky and ugly and only see the shell…not mr…
"I am" is none of those things unless those things are created by the "I am". As such, they can be changed, no?
Cranky, ugly. only a shell…loosing my mind. I hate to proofread! ME
LOL…me too. I do it grudgingly but have found joy in it as part of the creative process. I think anyway.
My wife is now in an assisted living home at 50 years old, thanks to MS. There is a dear lady of 91 who dotes on her and gives continuous love in spite of her own infirmities and occasional dementia. It is so horrible the way that we throw out the old and disabled like garbage, instead of gleaning wisdom from them like cultures as recently as 100 years ago did. Baby Boomers, Karma is coming. You reap what you sow.
Xerxes…it is horrible as you say, but why do you think we do it? In my experience, it is fear. Fear of understanding the impermanence of our existence and that each moment is transitory and, as such, can be used to lead us into experiences we may not see as welcomed. What do you think?
I wish the best for you, your wife, and your family. Peace.
Our culture has definitly leaned wrongly as you say Xerxes, it has been horrible we have all seen it and most turn away. But look harder at this, these words of an old man will reach out to touch the hearts of many here. He still lives in those words of sharing, his rememberances of those times will ring true in every one of us, this journey is the same for us all. Mayhap this can bring more hearts into loving thought. Much love for your wife, the dear lady of 91, and to you as well.
Namaste
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It really does make you cry just shows that we need to live life whilst we can x
This would be the perfect words my Dad would say he is in a Care Home after a stroke
I have to say that for the last couple of hours i have been hooked by the amazing posts on this site. Keep up the good work.