Through the Window

Can't tell where I belong, or if someone cares for me enough to stop. The wall I've built is high enough, So I can't see the other side. Through the window is where I hide. Hide myself, my identity, my life. I look through and see millions of people. Saying how they are different, but to me, they look the exact same. I can't tell where I belong, But I do know that through the window I'm home.