What If
By mcscraic
- 65 reads
What If
by Paul McCann
What if I could just disappear anytime I wanted.
What if all of my wishes could suddenly be granted.
What if I had more time to laugh and less time to worry.
What if I could slow down and never be in a hurry.
What if everybody could see things my way for a change.
What if others accepted all the things they think are strange.
What if others liked what I did and said please carry on.
What if the world stopped turning and everyone was gone .
What if those who like to argue said you’re probably right .
What if the darkness left us and we all could see the light .
What if just for once people who think they’re right knew they weren’t .
What if those who know it all could see what others have learnt
What if I had two heads and I could talk to myself too
What if I was deaf and wouldn’t have to listen to you.
What if I was a miser and I hoarded my money .
What if I could make people laugh , wouldn’t that be funny .
What if those who hate me never hated me anymore .
What if I understood all that I never knew before
What if those who realised it was too late had a chance .
What if we all woke up and saw we had been in a trance . .
What if those who carry grudges could be more forgiving ,.
What if I my life ended and I was no longer living,
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Comments
Paul, this reads like a quiet
Paul, this reads like a quiet storm—unfolding line by line, deceptively simple but carrying such weight underneath. There’s a kind of aching hope threaded through the “what ifs”—a longing for peace, understanding, maybe even a bit of mischief—and it all feels very human.
I was especially struck by the shifts: from the personal to the universal, from lightness to darker wonderings, from the whimsical to the deeply existential. It invites us to travel with you through so many facets of being—loneliness, frustration, reflection, humor, and grief.
It made me pause and consider how often we walk around with these questions tucked away, unspoken. Thank you for giving them voice here.
Jess
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Posing questions, and then
Posing questions, and then asking them of himself - the narrator, and can there be any answers? An interesting poem.
Dougie Moody
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