As a little child, just like any child,
I allowed my imagination to run wild,
In thoughts, sometimes fierce or mild,
The road to fantasy world, I paved and tiled.

I populated it with creatures nice and vile,
At times making me cry, at others bringing a smile,
A better version of the real world, at least for a while,
Such dreams, as an adult I should have set aside in a pile.

But it looks like I did not, and fantasy world I still inhabit,
It seems that it is hard to break such a deeply-rooted habit,
I still believe in a magician’s hat filled with a white rabbit,
Genies are still my friends, and that hasn’t changed one bit.

Parallel worlds inhabited with Japanese anime characters,
Amiable wars, casual deaths, and friendly natural disasters,
Ghosts and skeletons as a natural extension of the living,
And armies from the afterlife with large gestures waving.

The monsters under my bed,
Be they blue, yellow, or red,
Supposed by now to be dead,
Well… they’re still in my head.