If he resists his tendency
To inhabit his fantasy,
Would he welcome reality,
Over his made up tragedy?

Open to let his eyes be true,
Perceiving real as something new,
Made to feel life like his dreams do,
When dreaming is all that he knew?

To live for real to no avail,
His fantasies would never fail.
He kept the world behind a veil,
No real people matched his tale.

You’d say all his fantasy does
Is fantasize imagined flaws.
He’d love the real him because
He was fantastic as he was.