In a room full of roses, each one was distinctly beautiful.
You stood among them, as unique as a blue rose that caught my eye on the first day of school.
Blue roses, admired for their rarity and enchanting beauty, are considered symbols of achieving the impossible.
Like the blue rose,
you radiated uniqueness and possessed an enigmatic allure.
I knew nothing about you except the achievements I once deemed impossible, which you had effortlessly mastered.
I often look for blue roses in flower shops, but they are nowhere to be found.
That day, in the rose-filled room,
I watched your every movement.
Your gaze first settled on an elegant shade of purple.
She was as stunning as always,
carrying herself with an air of dignity and grace that commanded respect in a subtle, yet profound way.
Then, your eyes drifted towards the vibrant orange.
He was naturally cheerful, drawing others to him with his warm spirit and creativity.
His friendliness made him popular, admired in various social and professional circles.
But your gaze did not stop there;
it wandered until it settled in an unknown direction.
Following your eyes,
I realized you were looking at her.
A beautiful red rose.
Admired by many and always the first one to be chosen, she was a symbol of love.
Passionate and always the center of attention,
when she spoke, everyone else listened.
It didn't surprise me that you looked her way.
She's beautiful.
Everyone is ready to choose her.
As I sat there lost in thought,
I saw you moving towards her,
walking through the red path.
Your destination was clear.
"Maybe somewhere, there stands someone who admires yellow roses as much as people admire red ones," I thought.
"Maybe someone will admire an over-friendly, misunderstood person like myself."
"Maybe they will accept my all-time jealousy and envy, or perceived superficiality."
"Maybe,
just maybe,
a yellow rose won't be sitting alone forever."
