What do we see?

This poignant poem was found among the things of a elderly man in a nursing home.

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!!