What If
I went to a fortune teller,
there to get good truth.
I was scared about the future ahead of me,
about my disappearing youth.
I sat across from the lady
who looked me in the eye
and asked me why I was in here,
so I didn’t tell a lie.
I told her I was scared
of what the future laid beyond,
if I would make it to eighteen
or just be simply gone.
She said she does not promise good fortune,
and I swallowed, thinking I was dead.
She said she cannot read the future,
but she can see what’s in my head.
She said people come in here
who don’t know what to do next,
when they need a push or a lie
to get them to the next step.
So she said, I’ll tell you this,
you’ll grow old in a rocking chair
with people you love surrounding you,
people who truly care.
That I will find love
like I’ve never seen before,
and he’ll build me a library
from the ceiling to the floor.
That we’ll get married
in my favorite little church,
and I’ll have a pretty white dress,
walking down the aisle in a beautiful verse.
She said she’ll tell me the future
that she does not really know,
but she said it will never happen
if I decide to go.
I cannot tell you the future,
but dear, I will tell you this:
Please don’t take your own life,
because then you’ll be life’s definition of “What If?”