I feel ill. I feel weak. I can’t hold on any longer. But I need to! I need to. I’m beautiful, like the others. But the others can’t hold on. I can hold on! Right? I’m trying. It’s taking all my might! I was a beautiful yellow. I am no longer a beautiful yellow. I am brown. I am brown like the dirt. No one likes brown. I can’t hold on. I feel myself slipping off. I’m letting go. I’m falling.