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Found this poem on Facebook, thought everyone would enjoy it......... When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre 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 Melbourne. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet. Cranky Old Man What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see? What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me? A cranky 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 is 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. It's 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 man 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 cranky 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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A WOMAN'S POEM: Before I lay me down to sleep, I pray for a man who's not a creep, One who's handsome, smart and strong. One who loves to listen long, One who thinks before he speaks, One who'll call, not wait for weeks. I pray he's rich and self-employed, And when I spend, won't be annoyed. Pull out my chair and hold my hand. Massage my feet and help me stand. Oh send a king to make me queen. A man who loves to cook and clean. I pray this man will love no other. And relish visits with my mother. A MAN'S POEM: I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with big boobs who owns a bar on a golf course, and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This doesn't rhyme and I don't give a sh _ _.
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--Forwarded Message Attachment-- From: Gordon112@verizon.net To: PREACHERGAL2@aol.com; shstorm70@comcast.net; RDLWV84@Aol.com; kimfrizzi@yahoo.com; Jim.Hinkle@ky.gov; JSHUONKER@COMCAST.NET; frankstu@comcast.net; FHennebert@computersmith.com; ffaldow@verizon.net; helichuck@comcast.net; CHCKSWIGER@MSN.COM; chennebert84@verizon.net Subject: Fw: FW: Poem about Heaven Date: Sat, 12 Jun 2010 09:35:20 -0400 .ExternalClass #ecxAOLMsgPart_2_4a4b7cf0-1b4c-4f01-9b32-1db715345204 TD{color:black;}.ExternalClass #ecxAOLMsgPart_2_4a4b7cf0-1b4c-4f01-9b32-1db715345204 .ecxhmmessage P{padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-top:0px;}.ExternalClass #ecxAOLMsgPart_2_4a4b7cf0-1b4c-4f01-9b32-1db715345204 .ecxhmmessage{font-family:Verdana;font-size:10pt;} .ExternalClass #ecxAOLMsgPart_2_4a4b7cf0-1b4c-4f01-9b32-1db715345204 td{color:black;}.ExternalClass #ecxAOLMsgPart_2_4a4b7cf0-1b4c-4f01-9b32-1db715345204 .ecxExternalClass .ecxecxhmmessage P{padding:0px;}.ExternalClass #ecxAOLMsgPart_2_4a4b7cf0-1b4c-4f01-9b32-1db715345204 .ecxExternalClass .ecxaolReplacedBody.ecxhmmessage{font-size:10pt;font-family:Verdana;} A Poem about Heaven I was shocked, confused, bewildered As I entered Heaven's door, Not by the beauty of it all, Nor the lights or its decor. But it was the folks in Heaven Who made me sputter and gasp- The thieves, the liars, the sinners, The alcoholics and the trash. There stood the kid from seventh grade Who swiped my lunch money twice. Next to him was my old neighbor Who never said anything nice. Herb, who I always thought Was rotting away in hell, Was sitting pretty on cloud nine, Looking incredibly well. I nudged Jesus, "What's the deal? I would love to hear Your take. How'd all these sinners get up here? God must've made a mistake. And why is everyone so quiet, So somber-give me a clue." "Hush, child," He said, "they're all in shock. No one thought they'd be seeing you." Made me stop and think!!!
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- chckswiger@msn.com;
- chennebert84@verizon.net
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