
"Nobody even loves me,"
'Tis a fact that makes me frown,
This awful catastrophe
Is enough to let me down.

I am aware about the fact
That this shouldn't be a concern,
Yet it has caused a bad impact
I myself couldn't discern.
Never in my years on Earth
I have rejected an offer
About combining love and mirth
'Cause none could care less to utter!
Should I be attractive
Than what I look today?
Do I need to be seductive
To have people look my way?

(After all, those ways testify lots of lovey dovey occurrences.)
Do I need to follow norms
Which my free self fears?
Am I compelled to conform
Throughout my existence's years?
If I were to conform
Just to please such dears,
I could produce a water form
Out of my pitiful tears!
Sometimes, I contemplate
About others having admirers,
My bad, I could not relate
To the lovely tales of others.

What's something I don't manifest
That are seen in other persons?
Do people hate me at my best?
If yes, I'd wish to hear reasons.
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