You Don't Know Who I Am.

Being defined by the faces that mean nonetheless to you, you can’t stop it. But they don’t know me, they haven’t seen my life, and they have not been in my shoes, so why tell me who I may or may not be? Inside I’m not the person that truly portrays, but they judge me anyways. Maybe I look happy, but inside I’m dying in burning hell, what can you say about me? Maybe I look like a drab, but inside I’m perfectly content with who I am, what can you say about me? Maybe I seem to come off clueless, but I’m smart inside, what can you say about me? So call me a junky, tell me I'm dumb, but your words are just words, my personality will someday prevail. Like Jekyll and Hyde, Utterson and others come off with the conclusion of two different personalities coming together into being one, before the stated evidence. Evidence is what calms the mind within the real truth. As society we judge, judge, and judge until there is nothing to be said anymore. You don’t know who I am.