This is my childhood setup
To not trust a man by default.
Haven’t succeed to grow up
Though succeed to grow old.
They say trauma should be ignored,
The goal is what matters the most.
Firm goals have somehow been lost,
And I’m stuck with past to explore.
This past has no limits, no lines.
It changes its colors, its tales.
Impossible are my attempts
To burn it and to overcome.
A few generations have tried
Of woman creative and sad,
Of man who was cruel and lied,
To start a reboot and they failed.
And now we’re destined to dream,
Our search has no visible end.
We’re moving like pictures on screen
In constant uncertain pretend.