Incompetent inadequate

In the face of a roaring

Soaring inadequate incompetent

Insufficient bald impotent

I sit, hair streaked back

Stomach churned in naked panic,

For the revelation of my weakness

Of my longing.

The imposter the uncounted

The one who does not belong here

Over-egged, under done

Self inflated.

In full in the knowing

The brick bats keep on flowing

Smack me down, laying bleeding

On life's cold floor.

Then come the blades and

Their gnawing slicing 

Piecemeal pawing

At my Soul

To tear apart

Rend asunder

And I am gone.