Faux Pas

For those who lack conviction Aspirations stay but a mirage And for those crafting mountains from mole hills Detriment a deadly barrage Believers of strange eyes upon them Flaunt shame as a wristed corsage And without the courage to soften their hackles Lie confined in their mind's dank garage Jongleurs of fabled failures Treat their worry to massage Subjecting the rest of their dreadful days To vexation's entourage Clever inventors of futuristic fear Paste pictures to a specious collage And blame the world around them Imaginary Sabotage