Foolish Consistency

When my hobgoblin gives me the eye—
Not a literal one, by the bye,
But enough of a glare
That it makes me aware
Of my posture and stains on my tie—

When my hobgoblin scowls, as I say,
My composure is blasted away.
Ev'ry stutter and wart,
Ev'ry careless retort
Is exposed to the brightness of day.

With my hobgoblin clearing its throat,
I will mentally freeze and devote
My attention to all
Whether massive or small
That appears to be rocking the boat.

When my hobgoblin sighs as it does,
I can nervously chuckle because
It'll set me aright
Till I'm fading from sight:
Undistinguished, I'm gone, never was...