Down at the floor

Happiness nowhere to be found,
I look down with nary a sound,
As if my mouth has been bound.
I try to forget how it was before,
But it makes my head so sore,
So I continue to look down at the floor.

I'm not worthy of being happy,
'Cause most people say I'm chubby,
Not to mention that I'm ugly.
I fail to see what keeps me alive,
But I wait patiently for it to arrive,
So that my happiness may be revived.

Until the waiting is over,
I'll just go sit in my corner,
Bring my knees together,
And cry myself to sleep.