As the trees romance between one another in the bitterly gale,
I sit alone,
Isolated,
Against a dull oak tree,
I hold my legs for I scrunch myself up like un needed piece of paper.
My mother tell me to dream of prismatic skies and glamorous flowers,
But instead I think of grey,
Which engulfs my mind with sadness,
I wish I'd just fit in.
Tears pour from my eyes as if I were watering a daffodil,
I knew I should've done it,
Yet the day hasn't came,
someday I'll fit in,
I will fit in...
