A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
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 secure a happy home.
A woman of thirty, my sons now grown fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty, my 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.
For my sons are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I've known.
I'm an old woman now, and nature is cruel.
The body is crumbled, 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 to fast, and accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, open and see,
Not a crabby old woman you'll see;
Look closer ... and 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!
