Its when you look back ....

When you know you could have done something but you did not. It is over a frustrating even that I wrote this poem today. Here it is:

It’s When You Look Back

It’s when you look back,
And scenes vividly flash,
Like hot steel against bare flesh,
They scald your scars,
As they return, the impending past.

It’s when you look back,
And knew something you could do,
But unreal time just flew,
You’re still, alike an unspoken epitaph,
And into memories pain will carve.

It’s when you look back,
And demons of past recall,
A maze of no way out befall,
In bewilderment you succumb,
To the horrors of reminiscence.

It’s when you look back,
And realise memories are intangible,
When vengeance is impossible,
And then you look further ahead,
To an epiphany that regression is futile.

All my poems are dark-themed, no doubt. My fingers just can't have the urge to spell joy to my poems. It is an art after all. It can't be defined by choice.