The Colours of the Sun by Adebola Adesida

The cock crows always
to herald a new day
Turn, roll, stretch, yawn
Some of us are asleep by then
Others rise right before the crack of dawn.
 
Thaddeus wakes to a black sun –
A constant reminder
Of what he will never have
For sound and touch and hearing and taste
Were the only gifts given.
It appears Providence was in haste,
To set him free, and even
In exchange for his mother.
Oh well, creak, thud, whimper.
 
Rustle, snap, crack
I woke up to a red sun
With fears confirmed
And tears too heavy
 To flow.
Instead, my monthly
Sheds yet another life
I was sure would grow
This life, still beautiful
Beautiful dead moving parts
Of me.
 
We wake to a brown sun
To yet another dusty day of toil
With aching backs and Ankara soiled
By years of sacrifice and misplaced trust.
Living off stipends of pity
From those who have long trampled us in the dust.
 
Felix woke to a grey sun
Hidden in cloudy skies
Rubs crusty eyes
Tired from frustrated cries
More tired limbs scoop bowl after bowl
Of water
Washing away yesterday’s woes
Preparing him for yet another
Hands too weak to clasp in prayer
And so back into the cruel world, he returns
To be battered and bruised still
As email after email
Drip puddles of poison
And he pops Prozacs like tic-tacs
To mask the bitter taste of his own reality.
 
Binta wakes up to a blue sun
As the radio wafts stale music,
And stifles what little air is left in a black room
Beaten in the dark
But more pummels have been made to her soul,
By the stranger who snores beside her
A new day beckons to bend her still
Till she breaks in submission.
 
Titi wakes to a white sun,
Sits up and stretches
Careful not to break the slashes
Which were attempted by frustration,
But interrupted at her mother’s timely intuition.
A disappointed sigh escapes,
because freedom was a few drops away.
 
You see, we lay our heads tonight and every other
Hopeful as the lights go out
That tomorrow’s sun will colour us better.
Maybe we are right for hoping
Or maybe not
But one thing is sure
The air that stays in our lungs
Each passing day
Will remind us
That odds may
Change in our favour someday.

About the Poet

Adebola Adesida loves to write poems because they are a magnificent way of capturing the human condition. She believes there is beauty in everything and stories abound around us. This is why she pens them down and shares them with the world. She is an art lover who is passionate about mental health advocacy and sustainable development. To her, life is a journey that must be savoured – every sweet and sour moment.

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