I was thirteen and I had got a date one day, My very first... and I was so excited... I went ahead and flowers bought bouquet, - Twelve scarlet roses - hoping heart of hers to get ignited.
I was stood up - she did not make the date... I felt ashamed, embarrassed and betrayed ! Those flowers burned my hands and made me be suspect, They yelled that I am total failure and reject.
I threw away this evidence of shame. To glowing roses I assigned the blame. In instance came relief, despair went away. I still remember vividly that day,
Experienced by me half century ago. But recently this story came again to me to grow... While walking down the street I noticed the bouquet - exactly that, Or very similar - I couldn't tell you more, Which lay abandoned on the top of parapet, - It was another failure of distraught amour !