Shadowboxing

An old enemy chips away.
Chisels at my chutzpah each day.

It’s undermining my morale.
It lies in wait at all locales.

It scans for holes it can exploit.
At infiltration it’s adroit.

It waves at me from finish lines.
To poking bruises, it’s inclined.

It would like to end my mission.
Whines that it can’t mar my vision.

See, art can launder good & bad.
Reducing it to passing fad.

Bound by canvas, at last I see…
My enemy was only me.