>
> When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital, it was
> believed that she had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were
> going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and
> content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to
> every nurse in the hospital.
>
> Crabby Old Woman
>
> What do you see, nurses?
> What do you see?
> What are you thinking,
> When you're looking at me?
>
> A crabby old woman,
> Not very wise,
> Uncertain of habit,
> With faraway eyes.
>
> Who dribbles her 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 stocking or shoe
>
> Who, resisting or not
> Let's 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 girl of sixteen,
> With wings on her feet,
> Dreaming that soon now,
> A lover she'll meet.
>
> A bride 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 woman 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 man'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 husband is 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 woman,
> 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 girl 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 woman;
> Look closer - see ME!!
>