Going through memories, I found
I no longer drape in yellow.
Is it because it is far too loud?
Or have I gone too shallow?

Did happiness shy away,
No longer wanting to be seen?
Did curiosity give up its way
For greys with tints of green?

Did anxiety magnify
What was meant to be so warm?
Did it flame into burning rage,
Losing all its charm?

Is the hue of light too bold?
That comfort now hides in shadow?
Yet, the hope in heart holds high —
Like daisies in the meadow.

Painted in the iron heart too long
Is the raging rush of red.
How do I now convince myself?
That sunshine can be my shade?

Shall I leave the blind slightly drawn?
Let warmth peek through the pain?
So maybe one day, I’ll pick yellow
In the shade —
Sunshine through the rain.