
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
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