Italiz

Fueled by coffee.
Ignored in my professional field.
Up late hours,
Toiling.
My practiced skills getting duller,
My useless wit getting sharper.
Ye, gods!
I know what I've become:
The accidental artist.
Esoteris Polemicist.
I've been called pretentious,
Conceded,
Entitled.
It's not that.
You're wrong!
But that's what you'd expect those traits to refute.

You don't know me!
It might be expected that, I would yell it.
But I won't hide my thoughts or feelings.

I'm not pretentious:
I'm angry.
I'm frustrated.
I'm growing more oblique.
I'm not lashing out,
I'm lashing, wildly,
Undirected.