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Sometimes I feel as if I am an outsider, an outcast. I feel as though I am nothing to the world, a speck on the globe. While everyone is screaming and hollering, I am quiet and obedient As the world buzzes around me, without a care, I sit alone in chair waiting to be noticed. Alone in my dark corner I wait, and wait, and wait, slowly and quietly melting into the earth, while everyone clusters together as one like a swarm of bees. I sit and cry in my corner hoping for a caring hand to reach out and grab me; to save me from pitiful loneliness. Alas nothing comes. Packs of wolves stay together, while I roam alone. Like a misfit puzzle piece; I try to fit in but I fail terribly. Like a small child who has fallen into a puddle of mud, and sits and cries, I wait for helpful arms to pick me up and show me the way. Again nothing happens. For I am outcast, never to fit in, I am the outsider.