I’d dare to do things differently; actually
be able to walk in stilettos till I tilted.
Relish escargot – even caviar, although
it reminds me of frog-spawn. Clean
my flat only if it looked dirty and not
be obsessed with my Dyson. Sure as hell,
when you’re gone – won’t be remembered
for how pristine your floor was.
I’d lose my passion for pear-drops,
not to mention chocolate brazils;
cheaper, by far, those dentists’ bills,
and my eye-sight would be 20/20.
No matter what they say – men don’t
make passes at women in glasses...
least of all me. Feel privileged
my cup size is a ‘double D’
and not hanker for a boob job.
I’d be true to my word – not let
the sun go down on a stupid row.
This time round, my mum wouldn’t
get Alzheimer’s...I’d make the most
of being a child, rather than rushing
to be a grown-up. Own a Wendy House
like I always dreamed of, and stay there
till my next one...Life...that is.