Who is she? That girl over there?
"Nah," they say. "Don't worry about her. She ain't nothing."
"She lame. She this. She that..."
Oh, but if only they knew. If they knew the real me.
If they knew how so much I was like them. How I wasn't so different.
How I love to smile. How I love to break dance, pop and lock. How my music taste ranges from A-Z.
How I know every recipe known to man, or that I can recite rap lyrics to all ya'll favorite songs beginning to end.
How I've been all around the world and seen all that make up this earth.
How I can teach y'all a thing or to about fashion.
How I can teach you about love, and what it means to be a great person.
...How I can teach you you don't have to hid behind fronts.
How I can teach you about being yourself, loving yourself, not settling for second best.
If only they knew I was just like them, suffering from the same internal battles.
If only they knew I was a survivor, and I can teach them how to survive these trial called "life."
But what do I know? I'm just the girl over there.