The number 80 reads both ways

Jude Aldrich Allaga

There is no essence in living the examined life.

I refuse to believe,

That 80-year-old me will be someone worth fighting for.

When my eyes take their last winks,

When my hair greys to its roots,

When my limbs slow to a shrink,

I will hope for something more,

Until the shreds of nostalgia fade and forget,

To live in the shadow and waves of regret.

There is no such concept of fate,

Which listens to wishes,

I firmly believe in that.

To dream the impossible dream,

To take the untaken road,

To go the uncharted distance…

It would be futile.

I refuse to believe,

There is essence in living the examined life.

(Read the palindrome poem from the bottom up for a different perspective.)