By the worlds’ standards I can never fit,
But still I know who I am.
Along the paths I walk head held high,
But their eyes still tear me down piece by piece.
In a not so perfect world I live,
And in it I seem an outcast,shun by the rest.
I am made of imperfections that’s true,
But in them I am able to see my little perfections.
No need to compare my life or state with the rest,
As I know they would not last in my shoes.
I stand alone at being me,
I stand with all those who see the me that I am.
To their scorned faces I shall gracefully walk,
As in me there is something greater…
And that can never be taken from me,
I am just me.