I do love colors in my childhood.  
Then,  its about its attractiveness
But when I learnt more of it in my adulthood, 
I have my chance to paint the ones that describe toughness.

In pain, I am made white, 
Gentle dove sobering in his plight. 
Pains make me go black in fright, 
Wondering lonely as a starless night.

I wish I could turn red, 
Dangerous and eager to lay my pains to bed. 
I sometimes wish to become a blue bird, 
And sink all in ocean depth  well gird.

But pains are yellow: daffodil, 
Dancing and blowing its trumpet crown still, 
In pain; at risk if deep,  may attract insane thrills 
I wonder what perfect cures are the pills.

The world is so humble in pain, 
As Corona virus get all detain. 
Is just too difficult a world war 3 to explain, 
Though we all hope a day will end it's reign.

We all take to this task:
Tightening up the face mask, 
With our loved ones; afraid to bask, 
When will the world be unmask?

We aren't created to perish. 
God let our dying breathes be cherished. 
That's the world's wish, 
And peace will be accomplished.

© 2020
® Olábòsóyè Wèmímó Oláolúwá