There are so many things I want to do all over again.
I want to do them exactly in the way I did them then.
I want to ride my sled down a snowy hill a hundred times.
I want to sell empty soda bottles till I collect enough dimes.
I want to take the train downtown and then return back home.
With little bus fare there was an entire city I could roam.
I want to rake leaves in a big pile and smell them burn,
Or mow neighbors’ lawns for spending money I’d earn.
I want to go back to high school and pay more attention.
I’d get higher grades this time or at least honorable mention.
I want to walk the streets of my neighborhood just as they were.
I don’t want to see them as they appear now, memories all a blur.
I want to meet the girl I married for the first time all over again.
I want to feel those feelings just one more time if I can.
I want to ride in the back seat of the bus and smell the fumes.
I want to roam the house I grew up in and revisit all the rooms.
I want to ride my bike to places my parents wouldn’t believe,
Just to see what there was to see and how many miles I’d achieve.
Speaking of parents, I wish they could hear what they need to hear,
How priceless they were to me, how cherished and held so dear.
I am getting old now and looking back makes me feel better than ahead.
Going forward holds no promise; I enjoy reliving the past instead.