Ambition swells like a tide within,
I mull and moan before giving in…
Happiness is not what it wants.
It wants only sorrow, blooming black,
Like a lovely flower meant to attack.
I wish I was just a thorn
That lives defeated ever.
Torn and thrown away it is,
Yet better than a jaded flower…
© Vidya Venkat (2006)
Published by Writer’s Workshop, Kolkata
An anthropologist among the journalists 