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Oh no! There aren’t any events
out on the playground where we all once were orphans courageous, before text tatooed our palms, the children chained a daisy and began to sing a song. the first one laid a hand in, the soils' heart still beating, slowly 'round the circle the others followed digging: one by one, two by two , three by three, then four. now we've sewn ourselves a family. now we've grown ourselves a garden and we are ever growing still. now the calendar it shivers through learned summers, springs, and fallings. now we spend the days, lightning raised, to strip the thorns down from the peaches. (Last.fm)