Roses are red

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Roses are red 

red hearts that bleed 

lie limp in lights that fade

faded eyes speak 

of heartaches, hurt and hate

hate blinding lights, dead ends, 

narrow lanes suggestive of cruel intentions

intentions and intuitions played dead

and let blind hearts hit thorns

thorns red roses grow 

are aimless lovers' bed 

where they shed torment and pain

pain which every heart knows

pain which swallows mirth 

pain which roses permit 

pain red as roses 

pain are thorns 

thorns and roses 

bled the hearts 

Civic sense? What sense? No(n)sense?

I have nothing against smokers except when they light up and puff away near a kid or an infant and when they fling the stubs away, anywhere they please.

This is a photograph of a drain outside my office. I loved how the raindrops were creating ripples but look at the number of cigarette butts in there. Spoils everything. The funny thing is that a waste bin is placed very close to the drain, but smoker's would rather drop it in the drain.

Just the other day I was coming out and I got a whiff of an unpleasant smell. Thought it was a wet dog but found out it was the drain.

Once someone stubbed cigarette butts in my mug. I was infuriated. Nobody owned up, but that was the first and last.  The most ironic part is that the drain is outside the newsroom and my mug inside the newsroom. So where do we start lessons in civic sense? 

PS: Neither am I not pointing fingers nor claiming to be someone who abhors smokers or the smoke. Just wondering why some can't look beyond their own selfish means.

Beautiful Gloomy Day

Every one is cooped up inside in the comfort of heated rooms and cubicles. It's cold but I can't simply let this moment go. Such a beautiful day. Have to capture it. The damp, cold, fresh day that is today.