Through the Window

Can't tell where I belong,
or if someone cares for me enough to stop.
The wall I've built is high enough,
So I can't see the other side.
Through the window is where I hide.
Hide myself, my identity, my life.
I look through and see millions of people.
Saying how they are different,
but to me, they look the exact same.
I can't tell where I belong,
But I do know that through the window I'm home.

Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

JRecycle17

I guess I wrote the poem because when you go to a new school, it can be difficult to find friends especially if you are mixed.

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