Outsider
by Chloe (age 11)

There isn't anything to say, in the world that doesn't understand.

All you can really say is "hi" and move on. Like the wind, it travels

everywhere searching, searching for something that doesn't exists,

yet it won't lose hope. It refuses to believe it.

I look out the window into the nothingness; it is hungry for life,

movement, like a wolf howling in the distance. His hot breath

against the cold ice around him. He is cold and lonely, but nobody cares.

I try not to think about how no one understands me. Maybe there is the

possibility that someone is out there looking out their window wondering

my exact same thoughts, maybe I know him, maybe he is my Soul Mate?

But no, I am one of a kind. I am the leopard without his spots,

so does that define me as the same............................or an outsider?

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all poems and images ©2006 by chloe