My pants could maybe fall down when I dive off the diving board. <br />My nose could maybe keep growing and never quit. <br />Miss Brearly could ask me to spell words like stomach and special. <br /> (Stumick and speshul?) <br />I could play tag all day and always be "it." <br />Jay Spievack, who's fourteen feet tall, could want to fight me. <br />My mom and my dad--like Ted's--could want a divorce. <br />Miss Brearly could ask me a question about Afghanistan. <br /> (Who's Afghanistan?) <br />Somebody maybe could make me ride a horse. <br />My mother could maybe decide that I needed more liver. <br />My dad could decide that I needed less TV. <br />Miss Brearly could say that I have to write script and stop printing. <br /> (I'm better at printing.) <br />Chris could decide to stop being friends with me. <br /> <br />The world could maybe come to an end on next Tuesday. <br />The ceiling could maybe come crashing on my head. <br />I maybe could run out of things for me to worry about. <br />And then I'd have to do my homework instead.<br /><br />Judith Viorst<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fifteen-maybe-sixteen-things-to-worry-about/
