My friend

I have a friend named Dadum,

whenever I ask him to, he comes.

He likes to eat strawberries and cream,

and every night he will have the same dream.

If I talk to him, he will listen intently,

I can't hear it clearly, but he will hum to me gently.

He will always be there when you cry;

He's a really good friend, I can't deny. 

But all this said, it's so real to me now;

the truth so true, I feel I can't allow

the fact I must end my poem with:

He's not real.