Why can’t I do that?

Why don’t I look like that?

Why doesn’t my hair shine, my smile glimmer, and my skin glow?

Why can’t I talk like her, get my way with every word?

Why doesn’t my laugh sound like bells? Why don’t my eyes put people under spells?

Why can’t I answer every question in a confident tone?

Why do I feel so alone?

Why doesn’t my every word make people laugh? Why don’t I own a designer bag?

Why can’t I be like her, getting driven around by a chauffeur?

Why am I not funny? Why don’t I have that much money?

Why am I not pretty? Why am I not witty?

Why is she so perfected? Why am I so defected?

So rejected?

So neglected?