An odd little something that just grew out of my mind and onto a page:

i'm not alone
but i'm so alone--
in a world full of fake fruit
and boring cliches--
i can't find the people behind the motives
or the heart behind the deed.

i've been wishing all my life
[for what, i've never known and probably never will]
because what i am
and what i hope to be
are never the same
and will never meet.

the cold outside isn't worse that their deceit--
the cold inside is the child of their greed and apathy.
i've waited for a warm embrace from someone or somewhere--
a kiss, a smile, a touch to make things okay,
but perhaps "right" is only in my imagination...

and i cannot wait forever--
i'm done watching the world crumble
beneath absent love and gripping hate--
i'm not really alone, i know i'm not:
so i'll grab your hand, we'll make a move,
and we'll change the world
one daring verb at a time.