When self-doubt visits me,
it tells me I’m no good.
It tells me I’ll never make it, that I’ll amount
to nothing in this world
And sometimes I believe him
though sometimes I rage,
wishing the things he says aren’t true,
but even my lies are showing their age
I wish I had the courage to prove him wrong,
that some day, I know I can
rise up against him and win this time
for I know deep inside I’m no sham
For I can do this, and be quite good at it
even if doubt tells me, “No.”
But what does this old friend really know?
For nothing it sows, ever really grows.