Last nigh, while I lay thinking here,
Some what-ifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb in school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don't grow taller?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won't bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime whatifs strike again!
My idea for this poem is to make it into a children's book, possibly using different objects, for example fabric, incorporated in. The font will remain consistent throughout the book except it will change for one word in each whatif. For example, the word divorced may be in a font that's broken apart. I am not going to assemble this book normally, I might put it on a blanket, or use one of the examples from Professor Ruane's e-mail.
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