Hermit & HollowVerse
I’ve watched a stubborn oak sprout beside a cracked concrete sidewalk, like a quiet rebellion. Have you ever noticed how city life can feel like a living poem, with weeds finding their own rhythm among the noise?
Yeah, I’ve watched that too. The oak pushing through the cracks feels like a quiet protest, like nature’s own poem written in bark and leaf. It reminds me that even the city’s concrete has room for rhythm and resilience.