lookatme

Look At Me

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.


It's 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 author 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 vigour depart,

There is now a stone, where I once had 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!!




Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who
you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within......

We will one day be there, too! SHARE THIS POEM.........
ITS SOMETHING WE ALL NEED TO REMEMBER!!
And remember to treat your children well,
they will be choosing our "retirement" homes!










This Midi music is used with permission
From (c) Margi Harell.if you want to use her music
please visit her website for permission
CDs are available from Margi Harrell.

Margi Harrell