What Is This Place?

Confined, and angry. I sit like a blue flower in a field of grey. nobody to talk to, I'm alone in this world. That's alright, i have nothing to say. Who is that man in the clouds? I recognise his face. What am I talking about? Some think I'm crazy, But I know, it's just because I don't like this place. The grey that suffounds me is dense. I feel lost but perfectly at home. My frustration is tempting me, So here I sit, to write this poem. 8/16/09