Pygmalion Re-Formed

When I was just nineteen
A more beautiful girl I'd never seen
Than the one I had created in my mind.

She's chic and understanding,
Sensitive though not withstanding,
The fact that "playing nice" can be unkind.

Like a master artisan,
Carving as carefully as he can,
In hopes his masterpiece should come to life,

I sculpt her flowing hair,
Taking traits from here and there,
To build a mate for liberty and strife.

But through this fantasy,
I damn myself you see,
With expectation that cannot be met.

And so I must myself away,
From my dream girl for to stay,
In the real world where my feet are set.