I guess I must be
A criminal
Because I
Am a prisoner
And people hurt
For a reason
As far as
Reasons go
I don't have many
Just a bucket
Full of guilty
Misbeliefs
All the lies
That I tell
To the me
In the mirror
I know I'm
No good
But god I'm
Just a little girl
Only fifteen
Aren't I allowed
To think
I'm pretty
Can't I believe
That someone
Might love me
What happened
To twirling my
Fingers in
My curled hair
Because they
All say to
Trust my intuition
But intuition's
A *****
And she says
Everything
I don't want
To hear
That is my
Heartbreak
Reality
My saddest
Totality

I am not
Pretty
I am not
Witty
I am not
Smart
I am not
Creative
I am not
Loving
Nor am I
Loved
I am not
Perfect
I am not
Enough

people may judge by only your cover.
when you open up they will discover
what's misunderstood becomes apparent:
the chatter about you was quite errant.
their misbeliefs should not be your problem;
stay kind, committed and free to blossom.
no matter what they do or say, dont doubt
your worth or beauty for truth will win out.
your cover may be worn, torn to tatters;
keep shining! for it's God's love that matters!