Is It Just Too Late?

I peered into the mirror and what did I see?

A tired ancient face looking back at me,

The hairs on its head maybe mostly white,

I was quite shocked on seeing that sight!

How old it looked, oh how time had flown!

Till that moment this I'd scarcely known.

Sixty years nearly, how swiftly have they fled,

Perhaps only few remain till I’m declared dead.

In and with all these years, what really did I do?

Was I able to do in them all I was meant to?

Aimlessly, I wasted much of time’s great gift

On pursuits most foolish, merely staying adrift.

It was only recently that I was led to discern

Something of life’s purpose that I had to learn.

Some six decades have gone by, is it just too late?

Maybe it isn't, for I can still transform my fate.

The way to do that's most simple and plain:

Use best each moment that may now remain.