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,
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 vigor, 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!!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I saw this poem on some Facebook page and when I read it I got goosebumps all over my body. And soon afterwards it became one of my favorite.
So the story goes like this: when an old man died in a nursing home in Australian country town, it was believed that he hasn't left anything valuable behind. Later when the nurses were going through his belongings, they found this poem. It touched their heart and one nurse took the copy to Melbourne and soon after it appeared in many magazines around the world and has been viral on social medias since then.
I don't know how much truth is behind this story but whenever I see old people I want to give them a hug and let them know they are loved. Old age is really cruel. One beautiful body is going to turn ugly someday, there will be no more strength left, no one wants to be your friend anymore, your loved ones will move away, and you will be left alone. But deep inside the heart, these old souls remains the same as it was 50 or 60 years before.
It won't cost a think for being nice to your grandpa or granny, your father or mother or any old people you see out there on the street. Your little care can make them feel loved.
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 vigor, 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!!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I saw this poem on some Facebook page and when I read it I got goosebumps all over my body. And soon afterwards it became one of my favorite.
So the story goes like this: when an old man died in a nursing home in Australian country town, it was believed that he hasn't left anything valuable behind. Later when the nurses were going through his belongings, they found this poem. It touched their heart and one nurse took the copy to Melbourne and soon after it appeared in many magazines around the world and has been viral on social medias since then.
I don't know how much truth is behind this story but whenever I see old people I want to give them a hug and let them know they are loved. Old age is really cruel. One beautiful body is going to turn ugly someday, there will be no more strength left, no one wants to be your friend anymore, your loved ones will move away, and you will be left alone. But deep inside the heart, these old souls remains the same as it was 50 or 60 years before.
It won't cost a think for being nice to your grandpa or granny, your father or mother or any old people you see out there on the street. Your little care can make them feel loved.
Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might bruise aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too.
7 Years by Lukas Graham "EnjoY"
"Soon I'll be 60 years old, my daddy got 61
Remember life and then your life becomes a better one
I made a man so happy when I wrote a letter once
I hope my children come and visit, once or twice a month
Soon I'll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold
Or will I have a lot of children who can warm me
Soon I'll be 60 years old"
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