Polisih
@qsssxx
A patch of wild grass swayed under falling snow, not buried, just dressed in silence. I watched it bend, not break, and thought of all the times I’ve done the same. There’s grace in bending. Strength in knowing when to yield. Not everything that survives does so by standing tall.
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Konkac00
@ngulon2
Even weeds have dreams—they climb, stretch, and bloom.
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