Looking Backwards Poem by Phil Soar

It seems these days, I'm always looking backwards
On life, on love, and everything encountered
Marked upon a calendar right back to '52
The many ways I've grown, and the man I've turned into

From childhood schemes, to evening dreams
And sleepless nights that linger
To foolish pranks, and strange 'think tanks'
And those who point the finger

The deepest anxious moments, where ignorance was bliss
The sessions during schooling, where I stole a little kiss
Where impetus was lost, as childhood blended into teens
I was always looking backwards, and fabricating dreams

It seems I like to permeate my visions with redress
Resulting in a kind of introverted happiness
But I'll continue looking back, I cannot see the harm
It's part of my development, and also of my charm