Crabby Old Man
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.
T'is 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 . . . . . pen and see..
Not a crabby old man.
Look closer . . . . . see . . . . . ME!!
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