Yesterday Man

Sometimes people say to me,
why do you write so much about the past?
I look at them with dreamy eyes;
a small smile curls my lips,
visions of my childhood,
runs across my mind.
Of the days of innocence
that were left so far behind.
Those days when everything was new,
so ready to explore.
Then one day the world came by,
with its harsh reality,
and with a sweep of its hand,
took all the innocence away.
Therefore, now you know why,
I want to be a yesterday man.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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