This is not a poem about sadness, but about the curse of chasing happiness.

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The unhappy are forever to remain alone,

for that is the decreed nature of their fate

Happiness is an elusive dream they pursue,

and when they fail, it is themselves that they hate

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Each time they are happy, it’s an illusion,

which fades as quickly as it had appeared

Each time they are happy, there’s a rush,

that changes into agony, soon to be feared

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Fear them not, theirs is not a black curse,

for they are unhappy but may dispense joy

With hearts so bitter and eyes so radiant,

they are like the legendary horse of Troy

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But beware, never show them any kindness,

for they assume hope where there is none

Beware, your affection is like acidic venom,

for they assume love where there is none

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For their eternally stupid pursuit of happiness,

the unhappy are pitiable and are to be mocked

And for their constant vigil for non-existent hope,

their doors remain silent and are never knocked