Why don't you accept me?

Is it my looks?

Overweight with acne is all you see.
If you looked at yourself
You would see
You have just as much as me.

If you took the time to really look at me
You would see
That I eat healthy,
That I exercise regularly.
You would know
That I was born with a slow metabolism
And shouldn’t eat the foods you do.

Is it my clothes?

I don't have your name brand clothes.
I know the value of a dollar
That the clothes are expensive
But cheaply made.
I know that you can find the same clothes
With better quality
Elsewhere.

I don't wear the trends you do.
If you haven't noticed,
They don't flatter anyone.

Is it my personality?

You say I’m too quiet.
Maybe I don’t feel the need
To fill the silence with words
You won’t remember
Two minutes from now.

Is it my hair?

You say brown is boring,
But perhaps I’m happy with myself
And don’t feel the need to change
Or damage my hair.

You say I should wear make-up.
It’s not that I don’t care
About my appearance.
I just don’t feel the need
To cover myself up,
Like I’m ashamed of the way I look.

What you see if what you get,
And if I’m happy
Why do you feel the need
To tear me down,
To make me feel inferior.

Is it my friends?

You call them
Loud
Stupid
Obnoxious
Ugly.
Why can’t you see
That you’re becoming the obnoxious one,
That you becoming the ugly one.
Why can’t you see
How you hurt them,
Cut them down
With your insensitive words.

You say I don’t have any friends.
And I may not have too many.
Just the ones who cared enough to try.

We’re like a small army.
We care about each other.
If one of us got hurt
We’d all be there,
Defending our wounded comrade.

One of my friends
Is better company
Than a hundred of your friends.
The ones who don’t care
If you need help,
The ones who talk badly about you
Behind your back.

You say you’re happy you are not me.
But see,
I’m happier right now,
As I am,
Than I ever would be
Living your life.