By Shel Silverstien

Last night, while I lay thinking here, 
some Whatifs 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!


Taller and smaller are a rhyme.


The Whatifs Climb inside his ear and prance and partied.


Whatif copies its self more than once.

The meaning of the poem

The whatifs came to his mind and all those thoughts in his mind might of gave him a nightmare.