Words I've Arranged

I write because you don't know me, 

Who I am and why I am seems to be the lock without a key, 

Can't you see?

I'm crying,

This radiating smile is just a scene, 

I feel insignificant yet colossal,

My works to me are my Arabian nights,

to you they must be a cliched compilation of teenage frights,

And so I indulge in my youthful tithes,

I'm just this good at playing a Jabawaki, 

Mindless blisses and effortless kisses, 

Temporary relief, 

This generation has no release,

And so I attempt to excrete,

Behind the stonewalls of this firewalled screen i scream, 

Screams that no one hears, 

Screams that rips and tears,

Screams that blood curdles and blackens fears, 

Screams that don't really exist, 

When I write these screams are tangible, 

It's no longer just imaginable,

Maybe when I display my thoughts and reinvent your twisted idea of egotistical adolescence will you gain some sense,

My written words are no longer me putting in my two cents,

They're the essence of my soul placed in the palm of your hand, 

I can't tell if to you they're just words in the sand, 

I'm not Moses, 

But these words are my commandments, 

Regardless if contemporary civility disagrees,

I digress, 

Poetry is my temptress, 

Let our demon spawn be the birth of society's forever distress.