OK, I have to be honest. Sometimes there are words (not my own) that are just worth sharing because the lessons to be learned are worth repeating.
Too Soon Old
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 . . . . . 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!!
This poem was written by Dave Griffith of Fort Worth, Texas. It was written more than 20 years ago and was meant to be simple and to the point, portraying life from youth through to old age, including reflections about playing high school football, serving in the Marines, marriage, and the ravages of his own disabilities.
One thing is sure, the lessons are valuable no matter who you are.
Too Soon Old
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 . . . . . 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!!
This poem was written by Dave Griffith of Fort Worth, Texas. It was written more than 20 years ago and was meant to be simple and to the point, portraying life from youth through to old age, including reflections about playing high school football, serving in the Marines, marriage, and the ravages of his own disabilities.
One thing is sure, the lessons are valuable no matter who you are.
1 comment:
This is a beautiful poem. I hope we all remember the most important line:
"Then open your eyes, nurse.....you're not looking at me...
I hope we look all disabled people in the eyes. Some say the eyes are the windows to the soul. I'd add to the heart as well. When we look people in the eyes it shows them respect and gives them dignity as a person. Someone of value.
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