The Geriatrics too had their sunny days

Friends,


just as night follows dusk, and as dawn emerges out of the dark, human life too ebbs and flows. INfants become toddlers, toddlers become lads and lasses, and then teens and then adults and then lovers nd fathers and mothers asnd responsible citizens and grand parents and finally shed their worn out carcasses and move into internity from which no has returned. That is life.

This is a poem left behind by a geriatric in an elders' home before he passed away. Read on

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 vigour, 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! !

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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The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched.

They must be felt by the heart.

Laxminarayan, A crabby Old man..well, almost