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Look At Me
Look at me.
Take a moment of your time
Out of your day
And look at me.
Tell me... What do you see?
I guarantee you don't see me
Outsiders see my clothes, my make up, my hair
My father sees a daughter, where I know he wanted a son
My mother sees a lazy child, where she wants one who works all the time
Just like her
My sister sees a pain in the butt, where she wants someone who will braid her hair, and let her boss them around
I laugh at you, world.
You're not seeing me.
You see what I wear.
You watch what I do, and you judge me instantly.
I would say I don't care
That I'm not some poodle in a doggie beauty pageant,
And I'm not just waiting for that little treat, and pat on the head,
A sign of approval.
I refuse to say that I'm not a contestant in this world,
Competing for your love and acceptance...
Because I am.
You force me to be.
I am pushed on stage
You tell me to perform
I try, but the second I start to do anything,
You vote me off.
On the outside, you find me inadequate.
And I don't blame you.
It's not your fault that mass media
Has taught you that guys
Must be six foot six
With big muscles, perfect hair, and a passionate love for cars.
And that all girls
Must be five foot seven inches
With long, bouncy hair
Tiny waists, tight butts, and big, perfect...
You know what I mean...
It's not my dad's fault that he wants a son.
Nor is it my fault that I can't be one for him.
He wants a boy to teach things to.
But dad and I will never see eye to eye.
Because I can do lots of things...
I just can't make a Y chromosome.
I can't make my … umm... girl parts
Just go away.
I can't do that.
And mom will always want me to do more housework.
But I just can't sometimes.
If I'm not at work, listening to complaints, checking out groceries,
Yes sir, we are out of those,
Yes ma'am, we do have those, halfway down aisle two, on the right side, second shelf.
I'm at home,
Doing school work,
Or I'm at school...
Taking a nap...
I'm up all night doing things that I need to get done for myself.
Get three hours of sleep.
Sorry I can't do more for you.
If only I had more time in the day.
Sorry I'm not exactly everything you want me to be.
If only I could be more for you.
Dear friend, I forgot, at home, the movie you wanted to borrow this weekend.
I'll get it to you as soon as I can.
Don't worry. Don't be mad.
I'll get it right next time.
Britney wants me to do something, but can't see that I'm already doing something for somebody else.
Yells at mom that I'm ignoring her.
Kasey, drop what you're doing,
And help your poor sister.
Alright, sister, what do you need?
Nothing, I've done it on my own, now.
Good, 'cause that's how I had to do it when I was your age.
MOM! She's yelling at me again!
I am not! I was just saying...
Shut up both of you, and get back to work.
Do as mom says
Do as dad says
Do as boss says
Do as teacher says
Do what you need to do for yourself sometime...maybe...occasionally...
Home life school life work life all summarized into a few little lines of pure chaos
Now, you're growing up, getting into the real world now.
Look at yourself.
They'll be looking at you.
It will feel like no one can see you, but trust me, they can.
They'll look at your skinny jeans,
Your too short hair,
Your occasionally too heavy make up,
And you're dressed all in black,
Are you going to a funeral?
Why are you wearing two belts?
So many rings?
So many bracelets?
A wrist band?
With a skull on it?
They'll judge you.
They'll label you.
They'll make fun of you.
You won't have any friends.
Well... I say... Fine.
If a person wants to label me, I don't want that person as a friend.
If they want to comment on my clothes, my make up, my hair...
So? Let them.
I don't care.
They aren't even seeing the real me.
Behind the make up,
Beyond the rings, the wrist band, the bracelets, the belts, the ratty Converse,
There's a sixteen year old girl.
She sings Escape The Fate in the shower,
Falling In Reverse in her bedroom,
Black Veil Brides in her car.
Yeah, a bunch of goth, emo, screaming music.
But she's a good girl.
Never drank, never done drugs, never broke the law.
I cry when someone I love is hurting
I smile when they're happy.
I care too much, but you can never go over board with caring.
I don't judge people
I give them a chance to show me who they are.
So... from all the way down here, down on the ground
I call up to you, the world,
Perched high atop the pedal stool you've placed yourself on.
I ask you to come down,
And see the kids like me.
Constantly feeling unaccepted, and only ever wanting acceptance.
I ask you, not to judge me by what I wear, and how I look, but by who I am.
I will not conform to your idea of what people should look like, and act like.
I refuse to be a clone, everyone the same, and anything different is a reject.
Learn to accept differences.
Don't label people for what they look like,
But for what they truly are.
We're all here, stuck in the same universe together...
Let's not fight each other.
Let's fight together.
Everyone on the same team.