Isn’t it ironic how the earth
Is like the other Nine?
Mercury, a side of barren flame;
The opposing end of ice?
Venus with an atmosphere so thick
That cool breeze will seldom make it through?
Frigid, dusty Mars with evidence of life
Yet never any solid proof?
Jupiter a ball of gas with storms
That border on the ageless?
Saturn, with debris and moons
Clashing, warring in a spiral haze?
Uranus, poisonous and dim
An ice giant, king of frozen gloom?
Neptune tinted blue from methane gas
And seeming often melancholy?
Pluto, a mere ball of ice with moons,
Cast off in the scheme of things?