Why can't I be like everyone else?
To be perfect like the others,
A set of respectable qualities,
some talents; to dance to sing
to be a good friend to all I meet.
I feel different to everyone else,
Out of place in this world full of
perfect people highlighting my
imperfections at every second
glance as the glare in disgust.
Anger burns up inside me bubbling
up through my thoughts and echoing
through my mind as I try to see where
I am going wrong. Why am I different?
What did I do wrong in my life?
Some may say I was born this way,
Others say to be yourself or just quit
trying. But I can't change, even if I
tried. I'll still be imperfect to the
imperfectionist who's me.
