My parents may call me
wretched,
but it really doesn't matter;
you think I'm splendid.

My friends may say I'm
distant,
but it really doesn't phase me;
you think I'm just right.

You might say I am
unromantic;
some would call it cold.

You could say I am
unpredictable;
some would say it gets old.

I've never seemed to
feel this way,
in fact it seems quite lame.
I've never seemed to
feel afraid,
and you might have me tamed.

My parents may tell me
I'm bad,
but it really doesn't matter;
you think I'm lovely.

My friends may hint on my
slip-ups,
but it really doesn't phase me;
you just reach over to hug me.
 
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