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Self deprecation.

It's an asphyxiation

An aviation and elevation

Which seeks to bring you down.

Without saying a sound

You melt into the crowd

Of lonely lurid listeners,

Sifting through their whispers

As you choke upon your words.

It's absurd - and ongoing...

No matter how far you'll go

You'll only keep stopping.

Because no affirmation

Will equal confirmation

That your worries will be over.

It's just a Casanova

A showtime stop out...

Smiling profusely

Until the lights are down -

Cop out!

It's never over, the whining

The 'come on! watch your timing'

'Did I slip a note?'

I begin to gloat

As the audience chatters

Beguiled, I am flattered

Because I don't see what you're cheering for?

It can't possible be me, that you adore?

I'll float on cloud 9... thanks for bolstering me up.

But back on the ground, I'm still not good enough.

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