It is a tiny speck in the enormous ocean.

A single father surrounded by his family.                                                          ­                                                

Each one is different from one another.

The closest one is so hot,                                                             ­            
if a man stood on it he becomes a pile of dust.

Number two; Hell.                                                            ­               
Death covers this place with lava                                                     
Once living, now desolate.

The third one: a blue and green canvas,                                            
the only one of its kind. It is home to life itself: everything living, all under a great design.                                                          ­                                  
Nothing compares.

Red is the blood of Mars. If life once lived here, it has gone sterile. This world holds the key to Man's survival.

With enough moons to make multiple rises at night,              
Jupiter's own. The clouds there are thicker than the thickest pea soup. One great spot penetrates from his huge face.

A ball with one great hula hoop made of rocks around its waist. One may say: it is the jewel of the solar system.

Neptune is the Roman god of the sea made whole. 
Blue.                                                            ­                                                  
Gaze upon it from a star-ship, and marvel at its complex beauty.

The second last one. Number seven                                                            ­        
It lies on the wrong side of the bed.

Reach the end, a tiny world.                                                           ­     
He is the runt of this litter.  Stand on it and you'll probably see the other planets of which Pluto is the odd one out.                           
Once a time he was part of the class, but is now expelled.