Mild tw: feelings of worthlessness

Why was I created like this?
I feel like Frankenstein's monster
Gazing upon himself
Asking his creator the question why

Other people try to tell me
They say that I am beautiful
Or that beauty comes from the inside
But their words feel empty

I am confused when I have a good day
When I look in the mirror and don't cry
But good days are hard to come by
And bad days seem to drag on

I wish I was different
Everyone I know are incredible
Woven from clouds and starlight
And I am a creature crafted from sticks and mud

And so, Frankenstein's monster continues
Asking itself the question why
And being looked at with fear
As the townspeople begin their hunt