Roses Are Blue


First off, the title is just for kicks.

My favorite part about this picture, I didn’t have to do anything. Someone had taken out the roses from an old bouquet. And when I walked past, they were just there, waiting to be clicked. It’s sometimes wonderful to stumble upon a piece of nature in the midst of our electronic lives, I feel.

Second favorite part, the picture is full of so many possibilities. I can’t put a finger on one particular emotion. Happiness, melancholy, nostalgia, pain, retrospection; it seems to take form of however you’re feeling at the moment.

Last, I’d just like to put it out there. Roses are anything but romantic. Flowers in general for that matter. It’s like saying, hey I saw something pretty and alive and I brought it to you so you could watch it die in your hands.


I See

Ma what is red?

The color of love my child

But I see blood everywhere, on torn clothes and empty roads

Red blood that knows no religion, no nationality

What is childhood?

The age of innocence and wonder

But I see eyes full of terror, tiny hands holding guns

Lost in the chaos of life and death

What is home?

Where you’re safe and happy

But I see closed borders, horrors at the sea

Waves alive with screams

What is peace?

When everything is all right and the world is one

But I see shattered hopes and broken dreams

I see humans against humanity

I see misplaced faith and diminishing integrity

What is future?

They say the future is space, the future is Mars

But the earth is burning, can’t they see?

I see and I don’t want to anymore

Can I go to sleep ma?

Yes my child

What if I don’t wake up?

Then you’ll be in a better place

For we’ve created our own hell right here.