Criticism

The greatest dread that afflicts me is that of criticism
What if I am found wanting in the eyes of my peers?
My delicate veil of self-esteem sheltering behind witticism
Could be ripped apart and thus laying bare all my fears

Oh, he is not what he seems to be, they shall jeer and mock
He has been getting by on false pretenses, what a shock!
We thought that he was a brilliant genius, but it was a sham
In truth he is a parasite, living off others without a qualm

Self image will shatter at these horrible moments of shame
As an idol atop an altar comes crashing down bereft of fame
The cleaven residue shall vanish where no one can find
Thus ending a charade played in the labyrinth of the mind

But I dont see that happening in my case, I remain a witness
As I see my accusers levelling charges sensible in their fitness
Now I have the power of self-analysis and am able to conclude
Where the heart is bound by service, criticism cannot occlude