I was born in the midst of tragedy.

People sought prosperity
And demanded hospitality,
But not once sought to see
What happiness
Was, really.

They sought acceptance,
Looking down vacant lanes,
Leaving arms empty
To fill their own greed.

I reached out
With warming hands,
Unafraid;
Or was I blind?
Because obviously
They hated me.
Why did I believe
I was different?

Call me
What they will,
I know what I am.

I'm an idiot,
Worthless
And naive.
I'm fat 
And I'm ugly.
I'm reserved
And I'm awkward.

Even though they once said
I was perfect.
Too perfect to touch.
Too perfect to understand
What life truly was.
Now, I'm imperfect.

I was pushed away
In every way;
Whether I was good
Or I was bad.
Tell me - 
Show me how
I can prove
That I'm worthy.

They watched me;
My every move.
To judge
What I'd do.

And I died by the eyes of Society.