Precognition
I don’t want to know what I’ll do ’til I do it.
If it’s preordained, it’s too late to eschew it.
If it’s a surprise, I would say that I blew it,
for there’s no surprise when we simply redo it.
With each future sorrow when we must preview it,
there is no advantage—just more time to rue it.
The vase will still break and we’ll still have to glue it.
The syrup with spill and we’ll have to ungoo it.
Would I accept foresight or merely poo poo it?
When push came to shove, I guess that I would boo it!
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Thanks for tickling my mind with your thoughts in this poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great way of putting it, Ngobesing. I love “tickling” your mind!
LikeLiked by 1 person
How terrible to now the consequences of your acions before you took them. Judy, I can’t ask my parents if they knew what they were doing when they conceived me. They both died over 43 years ago! 🙂 x Anton
LikeLike
Know
LikeLike
“Ungoo it” is perfect!
LikeLike