I’ve never considered myself impressive, not even in the slightest bit,
Though I’m showered with compliments of my many accomplishments, the only belief that I hold to be dominant is
I’m not worthy of any of it.
I’m creative in nature, caring in heart and, in secret, do many good deeds
The crowds can applaud, the people all cheer but there is no standing ovation from me.
Always something to fix, I am never enough; my mirror’s eyes and mine do not meet.
I’m my own worst critic, mortal enemy and I sit in the judge’s seat.
I could drown another soul by preaching days upon days
How they are loved, lovely, lovable and worthy of praise
That they were born to be
Fulfilled, happy, true and free
But no matter how much I’ve heard these same things
I just don’t believe them for me.