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