I ran into this old poem some years ago, and thought it was very moving. As the story has it, the old unknown man who wrote this lived in a residential home somewhere in remote Australia. He died, seemingly without valuable possessions or anything like that. But they found this poem, posted below.
The nurse who initially found the poem was quite moved, and decided to make copies for all of the rest o the nurses who worked there. One of them took it to Melbourne, and got it published. Clearly, it proved very moving to many other people, because it has taken on a life of it;s own since, and spread quickly across the internet.
The video which I specifically chose to post above has this poem done in a song version. It was the best one that I found on Youtube. The most popular one began, for some reason, with the American flag waving, which seemed silly. Again, this guy was apparently Australian, not American at all. And the loneliness and depth of his sentiments seemed, to me, to transcend nationalist desires. So I opted out of that particular video, and chose this one, which has only a couple of hundred of views or so.
In any case, here is the poem. There is evidently some dispute as to who the author is. I found these two different people credited. Not being sure myself, I just kept the two names found, and am publishing the poem here on it's own.
A Crabby Old Man English Poem Written by Phyllis McCormack/David Griffith
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.
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 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!!
The original version is believed to have been written by Phyllis McCormack. This specific version of Cranky Old Man is an adaptation of the original by American poet David Griffith.
Added at the end of the poem on several versions that I came across was this sentiment, which I also thought appropriate to share here:
Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too!
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