We talk to ourselves with fists
a pugilist of reason
faced against years of abuse
the ebb and flow of emotional seasons

Only reason knows when to quit
but abuse will never stop
unloading blow after blow
to make sure no one else lives on top

Anything for that title
we have absently supplied
trading any confidence
for whatever drama we’ve cooked up inside.

With your value undefined
transactional praise given
where else could you we ever turn?
Unconceited, to the fights we are driven.

We can but hope that we win,
our critical self will fall
our ego rise the victor
but victory grants an albatross for us all

Our ego must be tempered
our abuse must die in shame,
either way our value breaks,
time and again it works exactly the same.

Without honesty we lose
the audience inside us
is only there for the show
ring the bell, choose yourself – the rest are treasonous.