WRONG.

Tell him again how he is wrong.
Tell him often, tell him strong.
You don't really know him, not everything about him,
But that doesn't matter - only that you let him know
Go on, make a big show
Hit him again, blow after blow
You always know better, you always know best
With you around, even in his home he's a guest
He waits for each hammer drop - for him there's never rest
Since he was little, before he was born,
This argument of his unworthiness was tired and worn
He's heard it before, time and again,
Not just from foes, but family and friend
He tried to resist, but in the bitter end
He can't help but concede that they have all been correct
He no longer stands proud, he stands not erect
Shoulders slumped, he is drenched in defeat
No point in fighting, as he is always beat
The stench of his failures hovers about
Giving him and all others positively no doubt
He is what you say he is, the cry a resounding gong
No matter the circumstances, he is always just wrong.