She's hated, lonely, by herself,like the last book on a shelf,

Hated by her family and fake friends, in her life the nightmare never ends,

Hated by herself, ugly and fat, no one cares, she feels like her uglyness flares,

Invisible to everyone except herself, and the journal she just found on her shelf,

She's different when she goes out, not herself, loud without a doubt,

Hated by her hair, she can hear the rumors in the air,

Her shadow slowly drifts away, on a regular day,

Her room and her journals are her only friends,

She's hated by everyone, even herself, she now wishes to be that book on the shelf, 

ATLEAST PEOPLE CAN SEE IT.