Sunday Scribble: What would you attempt if you knew you would not fail?

Here is my first attempt for Sunday Scribble. I debated whether to write a prologue to this work and decided for the first attempt I would. The reason for this is mostly because I did not expect what I wrote when I started. When faced with the question, I seemed to be searching for a way to change the past, rather then what I would do in the future, partly because I am excited about going forward with the risk of failure still involved. I learned this from life lessons that have ushered me forward. I don't usually write poetry, since I can't keep to a rule to save my life. But when asked the question, the first three lines immediately came to me and I went from there. Pretty much this is me writing head to hand, and this is what unfolded. Very much fun and cathartic. With that said, excuse the roughness.

~GoGo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What would I do, if I knew I could not fail?

I would teach backwards,

all the lessons learned forward,

if I knew my attempt would not fail.

I'd comfort myself on the eve of trepidation

with truth that all will be okay.

I'd not hesitate to take back worry

and comfort gingered isolation,

if I already knew they would not stay.

But then why stop there?

~

I'd stop myself from trudging forward

when the battles were already lost.

I'd not go down corridors of the past,

full of mistakes and high stake costs -

if I knew my attempts would not fail.

I'd not tell her I liked her,

usurping the exchange of my ego,

knowing now that it's easier to keep silent lessons

then do away with the sideways stares.

But then why stop there?

~

I'd pass along the things that we-know-now

to everyone who did not know then,

teaching our foremothers the lessons they learned

only after taking steps they had to defend -

if I knew my attempts would not fail.

I'd stop all mother's from the deathly grasps of childbirth,

stop marriages that harbored pain and fear.

But then why stop there?

~

I'd stop slave ships and puritans and fur traders

and fear. I'd stop murders and wars and forced migration anywhere.

And I'd take away all the chance in the games we play -

if I knew my attempts would not fail.

I'd stop our foremother's mothers finding their way foreward

from original homeland of our birth, if I knew that it would

stop the lost hopes and failures harbored in our hearths.

But then why stop there?

~

I'd take away all choices that had risk,

all words that hurt, all freedoms that

chain us to our heartbreak and loss,

if I knew my attempt could not fail.

I'd wipe away all we did not know and replace

it with what we think-we-know,

But then, we'd stop there.

~