Why are some streets so different?
The kittens all are long and thin;
I think they have more flowers there,
But broken things to grow them in.

Why do they like the house so high,
With such a little of the ground?
And do you think they ever see
The Moon before it's old and round?

Why won't I like to play there, too?
With all the funny things to eat,
And all the carts with little bells,
And dancing-music in the street?

And if I can't, then why do they
Stay out, the whole of evening?—
Why do they always seem to have
Just Not-Enough of everything?

Why don't you come?—Why can't I go?
It isn't Fair!—What makes it so?—
If they don't like it? Don't you know?
Why do you always never know?