Could Be More

I'm a mess.
I'm nothing but a disaster,
And I know it well.
I'm just an accident,
Waiting to happen.
But why?
Why am I a disaster, a mess, a mistake?
Because that's the only way you want to think of me.
I could be something beautiful,
If you'd only take the time to look.
If you took the time to know me,
I could be so much more.
But all you can see,
Are my strange ways, my odd clothes,
My unusual way of speaking and my abnormal habits and ways.
If only you would stop and see me for me.
Not just what's visible,
But what's inside, what can't be seen with the naked eye.
Instead, you're always in a rush.
You never stop to really think and see,
You just form your opinions based on a half second glance,
Or on what your "friends" say.
Why can't you open your eyes,
And see the real world around you?