Sociopath

What wit you have,
you strange little man.
You are a gaffer,
of some ignorant fan.

How dare you come,
and mock me so.
When so little of me,
you really know.

That's it, go ahead,
snivel, sneer, and snide.
Your posturing and pompousness,
fail miserably to hide.

All of the secrets,
found bottled and shackled.
In that insignificant brain,
you disreputable jackal.

You want to do what?
Don't make me chort.
Or do you want me
to retort?

I did not think so.
You strange little elf.
Why do you think
so highly of yourself?

Who is to say,
what rock you crawled from.
Why are you hapless,
wretched and glum.

This image I see,
reflecting right back.
Of a poor wretched soul,
a tireless hack.

I do not like,
what I have become.
Abject, contemptible,
and deplorable to some.

So what do I say,
to this woeful soul.
Who has salted his wounds,
and lives in a hole.

Rest in peace,
for the time has come to pass.
To let my true self,
resurrect at last.

I see my former self,
wisp further away.
My life subsiding
from further decay.

Now, content with my truths.
For they are my own.
Leaving behind my past.
Into serenity I have grown.