Sunflower in a field of roses. The long stem creeping out, showing its face to the world. Realizing it's the odd one out—accepts pain. When a little girl comes running through, she picks the prettiest one of all. Not the cabernet rose, or the ruby rose, but the yellow face that looks out searching for light. Never was it picked before. Running through the breeze with the girl—but she drops it. Just like before. Left in a hollow hole, all alone with no one to take it back out but herself.