Joy to the World

Happiness is the colour of the sun
on a Saturday morning
lighting up sips of black coffee
when every forgotten dream sleeps in
and wages are soundly asleep
instead of playing the accompaniment
for an alarm clock
who sings a classic
I've heard so many times
it becomes as boring as Christmas
music in the middle of December
when grey clouds predictably discolour me
My smile trying hard
to find comfort in yellowed teeth
only for me to confuse a Tuesday
with a Wednesday
the happiest truth being alive
to know the different shades of sadness