Happy pieces holding hands, happy in duress.
I understand their smiles, why they curl with mirth.
Happy pieces hanging out, happy in the group.
I hear them when they move, baking in the sun.
Happy pieces stringing words, happy down on paper.
I dunno why they frolic, what they want of me.
Happy pieces come to me, happy in conception.
But they darken, tainted through, just a touch from me.