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Seeing the words charging from their ladders;
Watching them scroll away and far with silent noises;
Loathing every moment watching them snear and snicker;
A smart idiot that I am and held no value to credits.

Coating personal misery with revenge;
Concealing my helplessness with logic;
Arguing every moment accused so wrongfully;
A condescending jerk that I am and deserved no praise.

Making a point to a topic;
Crafting each truth twisted to lies by others;
Begrudging those who walled themselves up;
A liar that I am and created nothing but debates.

Explaining is what I do when I feel that I am not understood;
Condoning each accusation is all I could do;
Understanding that I must hurt myself to please others;
A nice guy with no grace that I am and lives as shallowed.

Healing is all I could do;
My smile is nothing more than a shield to pain;
At times, a recluse life is a splendid career choice, but...
I am nothing more than an unfortunate soul of conflict.