Reality

 

I was born with expectations tied to my head. 

Dreams and hopes lied to exist. 

They shouted me, hated me.

Stilll I refused to shed tear. 

Being said boys are emotionless, we don't cry. 

They called my work a shame. 

Told my love was a joke. 

I was a faker, a filter, a characterless soul. 

My talent was based on my marks. 

My beauty was judged by my face. 

My worth was told from my clothes. 

My strength was compared to my emotions. 

They laughed at my failure. 

My success was a luck. 

My feelings were fake, emotions were dark. 

With all this being said, they told me,

"Don't judge a book by its cover".