Francine Pascal, You Ruined My Childhood

 Francine Pascal, You Ruined My Childhood

I used to seek the valley where the sun was always bright,

Where promises were uniform, and everything turned out right.

A fiat and a promise, a love that wouldn’t bend,

I trusted in the universe that you were paid to pen.

But you were just an architect who walked away from blueprints,

While ghosts filled in the pages with their dedicated footprints.

You stepped back to the podium and threw a match inside,

To watch the steady harbor drown beneath a toxic tide.

The boy who held the moral ground became a cheap cliché,

The twin who should have grown at last just took it all away.

You call it raw, you call it real, you call it "adult drama,"

I call it selling out the heart to create a little trauma.

Honestly, the people who are not quite what they seem

Are giving me a whiplash that shatters every dream.

The creators turn to posers, the heroes turn to ash,

Trading decades of devotion for a temporary splash.

So keep your messy sequel, your revisions, and your spin,

I’m locking up the vintage shelves and keeping reality in.

The real world has enough deceit, enough fractured surprise—

I didn’t need a childhood friend to look through lying eyes.

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