What feels like times of yore Is but only a matter of days and more Ever since freedom pulled from under my feet Encumbered by four walls to greet. Sitting on a thin ledge Applauding those I rarely noticed, less cared Watching millions follow While rations and relations hum hollow. Good news today befitting ‘passe’, Like fashionable dressing too I look for a barber In place locked with media macabre. ‘Work from home’ for few blue collars I see While thousands jobless and on a knee I watch simmering anger heightened yet nought new From where I can stretch but reach only a few. There’s banter on zoom about young burgeoning dreams delayed On mutable directives between nations relayed Barely able to console an anxious parent Stare on the frozen screen for them to vent. I know death decent knocking on few doors Rest it peeped and left So why the fixation with fright When we know tomorrow everything will be alright. Lest thy dark corona enter my home I’ll keep painting with colors rife Turning to unlimited learning online Holding a glass overflowing no longer with tears of brine But with positivity as I tread to modestly Making Milestones of MINE. Yes, here I AM painting a coveted canvas.