there are times where
the trees seem to fall
and the grass seems to wither
right in front of my eyes.
when the flowers wilt
and the air goes stale,
and i no longer want to
breathe it.
but i find their hands
and they bring back
the green to my world,
and convince me to hold on.
i touch the rose petals.
one day, it is going to be
okay.
-c.h.