Looking back.

When I look back,
I always favor the past;
though, when then was now
I only looked to the future
and fancied my lot miserable.

Now, when those times are past
I think of them favorably
wishing they had never passed
for my lot is no less miserable,
and I am still sentimental
with a flair for the dramatic
though less encouraged
than in former days.

As time passes,
I don't need less love.
I need more and more.
Friends fall away
and I am left alone
looking to the past
wondering what went wrong.