There’s this man, a sweet old man, yet he radiates youth.
Always smiling but nothing overt.
At times this smile has a sadness.
He carries a soft pink and beige, raggedy plushy with him.
Its in his hands every time I see him sitting across the room.
I love this.
There’s something like this inside every soul.
Why do we lose it so willingly?
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I think that yhe world is anf allways has been back words. I think that it would be more on track if we allowed adults to be themselves and if thats carrying a big stuffed bear them so be it..
š„ā”š„
ā¤ yes, completely. growing up doesn't need to mean stripping oneself of all emotional honesty and genuine identity