Classic Poem

My life is almost over; that's a fact
Statistically derived but simply true;
I look into the mirror, but it's cracked

And so reflects two, three, or more, that lack
Cohesion. Which one's goal shall I pursue—
My life is almost over; that's a fact—

In time remaining? Luggage largely packed,
Past boxed and crated, little left to do,
I look into the mirror, but it's cracked

And won't be fixed and always did refract
The one before it into at least two.
My life is almost over; that's a fact,

But life cannot be lived in the abstract
And begs for certainties that it once knew:
I look into the mirror, but it's cracked;

I look away in search of the exact;
Nights melt the shadow shrinking from my view;
I look into the mirror, but it's cracked.
My life is almost over; that's my fact.