Talented Purity

Today was just any old day, with all the any old things, on any old day of any old week in any old year of any old life.
Anonymous to the point.
It just took the sparkling of youse,
The behemoth growth,
From which you spring,
Upon my Winter,
Thus is how talented I am.

I didn't mean anything to anyone. Just a genius on the low.
But Jeans have a way to bring greatness out of me.
I'd followed a road most flawed,
and laid my cards on a whim of art.

I said even Heavens heard, of heavens heard, that my life was flawed,
kept it secret until the end, exposed it only in words.
Brushed upon a battlefield a youth most unwanted most of all uneeded.
Care to realize all my risks?

I will make it, but maybe not, But maybe you should just step aside.
I'm trying not to step on your toes,
But you're in my way (watch out)
Here I go.