They called me goody-two-shoes
So now my feet are bare.
They said that I was just too much
So now I’m barely there.
They whined about my steady stare
So now my eyes are closed.
They whinged that I was too alert
So now I mostly doze.
They wondered at my paleness
So I painted myself blue.
I asked them why they said these things
And they said, “Who are you?”