When
doubt whispers
you’re not
good
enough
and
When
fear informs
you’re
going
to fall
and
When
skeptics shout
you’re a
feckless
fraud
Turn
Off
the clamor
that cools
your crop
Shut
down
the slurs
that snap
your spirit
Reject
the taunts
that steer you
to self-inflicted
scars
Remember
You are
not
the product
of oppressive
imperfection
But
You are
the sum
of the growth
gained
from your
patchy progress
