The Real Me

Nobody knows the real me But they try to judge me any way Why can't they see the skin? They think I'm made of clay They mold me and shape me In any form But they're not the reason I was born My mother is where I'm from She knows I'm smart They think I'm dumb And the things people do The things that they say Hurts me inside and never goes away Every night when I cry I go deep into thought And think of this war in which I have fought But now when I think of it There is not an end And it's me just me I have to defend