They grow, softly, while youâre not looking.
Little hands let go, voices deepen, days move on.
You smile at who theyâre becoming
and quietly ache for who they were.
Il y a ceux qui vous choisissent parce quâils nâont rien dâautre et ceux qui vous choisissent parce quâils ne veulent rien dâautre.
@_l_wood__ X @fred_opus_visuals đ±
