If This Boat Was Made of Paper

If this boat was made of paper, we’d surely sink to the bottom
This lake is not that deep and there are no monsters in its keep
But we would slowly sink today, while the paper would give way,
to the pressure and the heaviness of water
that would envelope us like lambs to the slaughter
 
If this boat was made of paper, the wind might whip us away
This lake is not that wide and there are no places to hide
But we would surely be pulled into the clouds, while the tree hid behind flimsy shrouds
of waterlogged origami hiding droplets in its folds
that would shake loose and join the rest in the watery threshold
 
If this boat was made of paper, our weight would cause it to falter
This lake is not that long though it’s enough to lose yourself to siren song
But we would surely collapse while others would float, made of wood and straps
able to float and move with slightest breeze
that would push across those tiny waves, past wandering geese
 
If this boat was made of paper, the thin sides would not protect us
This lake is not that small and there are other boats which makes for close calls
But we would get ran over, fall overboard then tangle in undersea clover
to the bottom where old Christmas trees lie in wait
sheltering tiny fishes from being bait
 
If this boat was made of paper, we’d surely be sent up in flames
This lake is not that dry and flames would lick sky high
But we would also burn while smoke and dark water churned
toward the starlit splashes
and skyward ashes