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.