who knows if the moon's by e.e. cummings:
who knows if the moon's
a balloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky- filled with pretty people?
(and if you and i should
get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
we'd go up higher with all the pretty people
than houses and steeples and clouds
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody's ever visited,where
Spring) and everyone's
in love and flowers pick themselves
Because today after school my sister was walking home alone and a group of guys twice her size pushed her down and stole her ipod, and people keep talking to me about college, and I rather hate everyone on earth now.