I would have never thought
That I would ever be loved
No matter how hard I fought.

How many times
Must I cry out
With these pathetic rhymes?

I know I'm not the best
That I'm different and odd
But I don't want to be like the rest.

Through the darkest hours
I was considered dead
My coffin lined with flowers.

The flowers were there
Because of those who loved me
Even though it's not fair.