It's the truth of every one life.....never forget it....
Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.
There will be no more sunrises,
no days, no hours or minutes.
All the things you collected,
whether treasured or forgotten,
will pass to someone else.
Your wealth, fame and temporal power
will shrivel to irrelevance.
It will not matter what you owned
or what you were owed.
Your grudges, resentments, frustrations,
and jealousies will finally disappear.
So, too, your hopes, ambitions,
plans, and to-do lists will all expire.
The wins and losses that once seemed
so important will fade away.
It won't matter where you came from,
or on what side of the tracks you lived.
It won't matter whether
you were beautiful or brilliant.
Your gender, skin color,
ethnicity will be irrelevant.
So what will matter?
How will the value of
your days be measured?
What will matter is not what you bought,
but what you built;
not what you got, but what you gave.
What will matter is not your success,
but your significance.
What will matter is not what you learned,
but what you taught.
What will matter is every act of integrity,
compassion, courage and sacrifice
that enriched, empowered or encouraged others
to emulate your example.
What will matter is not your competence,
but your character.
What will matter is not
how many people you knew,
but how many will feel a lasting loss
when you're gone.
What will matter is not your memories,
but the memories of those who loved you.
What will matter is how long
you will be remembered,
by whom and for what.
Living a life that matters
doesn't happen by accident.
It's not a matter of circumstance
but of choice.
Choose to live a life that matters.
Very sad !!!! and frightening .......... that's for sure !
.CRABBY OLD MAN
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home
in North Platte, Nebraska , it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his 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 Missouri ..
The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in
the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association
for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been
made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.
And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world,
is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.
Crabby Old Man
What do you see nurses? . . . .. . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . When you're looking at me?
A crabby 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'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 wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . .. . 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.
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 guy 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 crabby 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!
PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM
The best and most beautiful things of
This world can't be seen or touched.
They must be felt by the heart.
Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless.
"Learn how to be happy with what you have while you pursue all that you want."
All the mails posted by me r not my property, all r taken from net, if something is copyrighted please inform me, so that i may not post the material in the future.
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