An existence meant to serve others, grown only to be picked and forgotten. Man labels its vibrant red as the color of passion, of romance, of charm and love. Yet this rose was ripped from the land that nourished it, taken from the light that grew it. The rose is now dead.

The rose is “ugly” now its petals are dry, brittle and are falling off. Its branches and stems have weakened and broken. Is t...

My baby and I have a lot in common. Her dark curly hair , her deep brown eyes, her blank face. she’s only six, I notice the different teeth she places below her pillow in hopes of the tooth fairy giving her gifts in return. They often warn me…the nanny’s, the teachers, even the kids riding tricycles instead of bicycles warn me.

But who are they to warn me?

What do they know about my...