A poem called "Crabby"
This poem is called CRABBY. It was found with the belongings of an elderly lady who had died in a nursing home. Perhaps, this poem will stir some thought in you as it did in me.
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with far away eyes.
Who dribbles her food, and makes not a 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, unresisting 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, you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I move 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 at her feet,
Dreaming that soon, a new 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 build a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty my young now soon will be gone,
But my man stays 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 busy, rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love I have known.
I'm now an old lady, and nature is cruel,
Her jest is to make old age look like a fool.
The body crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
And now there's 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 pains,
And I'm loving and living life over again.
I think of the years all too few, gone so fast,
And accept the stark fact, that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, nurse, open and see,
Not a crabby old woman, look closer, see me.
Author: Unknown