stars are too twinkly

I haven't posted Shel Silverstein in years and years (actually, not since the very first year), but he came up in the poetry club discord server recently, and as an absolute classic of children's poetry, he's also one of the first poets I ever encountered. Plus, I am feeling this one today—a lot of things have been great today, actually, including going to Brooklyn for brunch to celebrate a friend's birthday—but I also locked myself out of my apartment doing laundry, and broke my shoe, and spent several hours on subways, and all things considered it hasn't been my best day.

Everything's wrong,
Days are too long,
Sunshine's too hot,
Wind is too strong.
Clouds are too fluffy,
Grass is too green,
Ground is too dusty,
Sheets are too clean.
Stars are too twinkly,
Moon is too high,
Water's too drippy,
Sand is too dry.
Rocks are too heavy,
Feathers too light,
Kids are too noisy,
Shoes are too tight.
Folks are too happy,
Singin' their songs.
Why can't they see it?
Everything's wrong!

—Shel Silverstein (1930-1999), "Mr. Grumpledump's Song," from Where the Sidewalk Ends, which was originally published in 1974, but in this case the poem is from the 2004 30th anniversary edition, by way of poets.org.