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Subject: Fw: FW: Old Ladies poem
> When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital
near
> Dundee,
> Scotland, it was felt 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. One nurse took her
copy
> to
> Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since
appeared
> in the
> Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland
> Association for
> Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based
on her
> simple,
> but eloquent, poem. ...And this little old Scottish lady, with
> nothing left
> to give to the world, is now the authoress of this "anonymous"
poem
> winging
> across the Internet. Goes to show that we all leave "SOME
footprints
> in
> time".....
>
> An Old Lady's Poem
> 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, 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 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, nurses, open and see,
> ..Not a crabby old woman; look closer ...see ME!!
>
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