Oh maybe in some far and foreign field
There sits a star that never liked the sky
That much prefers the barren soggy ground
Just as I

But here dawn breaks into a busted smile
The pastel clouds soon cover up the sun
This morning is a sad and perfect song
That’s never sung

Oh here there’s mourning in the falling rain
And in the birds that sing there soft cuckoo
And the wind will never understand this face
Nor will you

Ben Paynter

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/maybe-in-some-far-and-foreign-field/