Fall to rise.

Often times, we fall
Don’t know how to get up
Stranded and lost.

Some days, it’s a heavy rain
The thunderstorm rage
Life’s either black, white, or grey.

But there will be days,
When someone is offering their hand
to pick you up and pull you out.

There will be days
When the rain stops,
and the thunderstorm is gone.

We slowly get up,
take a long breath,
and then we stand tall.

The people who have helped you through it
will give you a round of applause,
and we rise— stronger than before.