It has been this way for all my life,
Not fitting in, world filled with strife.
I long to be in another place,
One where no one knows my face.
The window is a small one, yet,
I see thing I will not forget.
People living life with love,
As peaceful as a fresh white dove.
If I were to enter in,
It would be a major sin.
For to enter in as myself,
The books would all fly off the shelf.
I do not belong within,
So here I stand once again,
Standing here, trying to hide,
Looking in from the outside.