What if I could fly?
I could soar through the heavens, visiting the lost.
Over the white pillows and relax for a while.
Around the blue, winged, without a care,
Airborne with only the feeling of being with who I love.
What if I could win everything?
Before I start a game or race, magic would give me those abilities.
The red faced burn would never happen when I played.
I would run at speeds like never before,
And leap through the air higher than anyone.
What if life was one big musical?
And existence was one big song.
Along I would sing melodies about anything.
Until the chorus came along to join in the tune,
We would all sing a great harmonious anthem.
What if I lived all my special dreams?
Walking through a chocolate river one day,
Past a huge rainbow, finding a pot of gold the next.
Anything I thought could only happen during my doze,
Would happen at my wakefulness instead.
What if I could use my own imagination to decide what would happen?
To choose not to feel the pain of loss,
Or to feel the heat of embarrassment.
I would never have to endure the plainness of boredom,
Together with having my best thoughts be only in my unconsciousness.
What if I had the choice for it to be my way?
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Comments about this poem (What If... by Emily Lower )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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