The Hands that Mend

As history repeats itself  
Man must remember the patterns
A cunning denial that truth masquerades
Where Gods in suits propser
 
There's realities that rub shoulders with ours
A different world with a better writer
Heroes with villainous powers
Enemies in mirrors wear your face gleefully  
While you pretend to disappear into the scenery
 
We find similarities in fictional characters  
Where we find none in real random encounters
At least none that we ever will feel proud of
Drifting to sleep to imagination gone wild  
Glorifying the exaggerated comical style.