C.M

The rain it raineth everyday,
And yet you will never see it
The soil grows damper by the hour
And yet you can never feel it.
The world's constancy in its childish haze
Will not stop its turn or break its gaze.
And you, were like a flower plucked
Untimely by a foolish pauper's hand -
So, I whisper to the dark jewelled sky
That someday I will understand.