The boy was never happy
the way other people were.
He didn't need to be.

He could be happy
in the way a sadbeast might.

He shivered in the cold wind
of a spring morning.

He saw the sun crest over a sullen hill,
and watched gray clouds light
with a sorrowful sigh
as each quiet beam of sunlight
graced the air.

The boy sang the sadbeast song
and frowned while he smiled.