Are you lonely, Moon?
You giant white balloon.
You have no water, wine or air.
No wonder nothing lives up there.
You can’t grow trees or flowers or grass.
Your soil is only rocks and glass.
Even your light is not your own.
Instead it is from the sun that shone.
Your gravity is weak, I hear.
You really have no atmosphere.
But don’t cry
For I still have you in the sky.