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“What’s wrong with her?” I hear you ask. You look at me and snicker.
“She looks like a clown.” I hear you say. You look at me and laugh.
“Listen to the way she talks!” You say. You roll your eyes.
“She thinks she’s so smart, but she’s not.” You’re still talking about me. Laughing.
“Look at her hair!” You whisper. You look at me disgusted.
“Look at her, she needs some make-up BAD!” You say. Still disgusted.
“Why does she hang around him?” You ask. Like I’m stupid for being with him.
“______________________” I hear when I pass you. You look at me, again in disgust.
“She needs to shut up.” You say. Quite annoyed.
“She sounds like a grandma.” You said. Rolling your eyes.
I hear this everyday. It’s all I ever hear you say. I want you to hear something now!
I don’t have a problem. You’re the one who talks about me non-stop.
The way I dress is my choice. Just because I don’t look Goth doesn’t mean I dress like a clown.
So what if I talk with a slight accent! I’m from here, your not.
I am smart. Smarter than people like you, who only see the outside.
My hair is mine. Who cares if you don’t like it, cause’ I don’t.
I don’t need make-up. True beauty is on the inside.
I hang out with him, because he’s a true friend. Unlike your stupid clones.
As for silence when I walk by. If you won’t say it to my face than don’t say anything.
I need to shut up? I don’t talk about you, so you shut up.
You said I sound like a grandma. I’m educationally gifted, so I use big words. Words you don’t know how to comprehend and define.
I haven’t made my point yet. You’re still talking.
I don’t see a need to gossip about people. So I have no problem.
I dress in earth tone colors, and pastels. Colors you don’t have, all you have is black and purple.
The way I talk has nothing to do with you. I don’t talk to you so it shouldn’t even bother you.
I see no need to make my straight brown locks straighter. I like it the way it is.
I don’t see a need to cover my face with chemicals. I don’t want to paint my face up, and you know they test that crap on animals.
Josh, I know you hate him but I don’t. That’s why I hang out with him. He won’t copy my every move.
I talk when I walk by you, I don’t need to stop, because I’m not talking about you anyways.
I shut up when I need to. I don’t tell others they need to when I won’t though.
My big words are my words. I chose what comes out of my mouth. I can comprehend them and I don’t care if you can’t, I’ll use them anyways.
I am me. Not you, or Jenni, or Sandra. I don’t care what you and your clones wear or what you look like.
I’m not a clone. I am me, my own person. I dress and act the way I want to. I talk the way I want to. I AM ME!
I don’t care what you say, because I’m me.
And I don’t let myself get brought down because of your insecurity.
I’m me and I’m happy to be me.