The real you is not liked,

Not admired, not of any importance.

You hide to be accepted,

To be famous, and to feel alive.

You were made perfect

By the Mighty Creator, and yet

You still hide.

You are ashamed.

You are incredibly kind,

Constantly setting aside your hurting heart

For others to feel your compassion.

So why?

Why is the real you not liked?

Not admired, not of importance?

You don't care if you are accepted.

You care about the feelings of others.

These qualities of love are not enough.

For society is cruel,

It is hateful, it is selfish.

And those things you are not.