Poetry Dare: Day 5

I had this idea for a poem in mind for awhile, and I finally had a chance to write it out.  I'm very interested in the habits we humans have in life.  One of those habits is nearly undying curiosity.  I think, sometimes, however, that this curiosity gets us into more trouble than it does to help us. This is problematic because we can never know with certainty what could have been if something had been different, and sometimes the word "if" is the worst word that can or could ever be.



If is the heaviest word in
the English language. There
is no way to whisper this
word under your breath without
finding an inundation of
emotions or memories or
colors connected like rainbows
are said to show the way
to a pot of gold.
But this word is not
heavy like change - it is
burdened by moments
that never came to be,
possibilities conditioned on
things out of your control.

Certainty is something that can't
be guaranteed, and if is too
often followed by then as though
the hypothetical could lead into
a consequence...
"If I had been there..."
"If I had done something..."
"If I had said anything, then..."
Then... then...
Then what?

The unknown takes over and
life never goes back, so please
just keep your eyes turned
towards the place to which your
toes point. Feet know that
certain ends can't be questioned - this
is why feet look like exclamation points and toes
can't curl into question marks -
forward is the best way feet embark.

If is the heaviest utterance in
the English language. It has a habit
of transforming those things which touch it
into unanswerable questions like "What if?" It
has this habit of transforming memories
into missed opportunities, and ifs
stick to themselves until we feel
buried by "whats" and "I don't knows"
are the only weapon we have to wield, but they
break like bones under plunging gravity -
falling doesn't crush us; the sudden stop
does.