According to my father I am a bird
Or a plane
Perhaps Superman
I don't know
But he sure says I live in the clouds all day long.

My mom calls me Complicated Simplicity
Ingenuous youth following the erroneous direction
A perfection gone wrong.

My understanding brother accepts me fully
He really loves me I swear it's true
Well apart from the fact that he's convinced
The very essence of my being just doesn't belong.

My friends believe me to be a box of broken promises
Potential, talent and beauty well hidden
A girl who gave up before trying
Even though she knows she's very strong.

Now you may wonder who actually am I
I am still trying to figure it out
But it keeps getting harder and harder
In this evergrowing, judgemental throng.