The futility of Universal

In the grand tapestry of human existence, I've come to realize, That seeking to please everyone is a Sisyphean compromise, A futile endeavor, doomed from the outset, to appease, The diverse and often discordant voices that clamor for release. There are those who harbor animosity towards me, sans raison, Their vitriol and rancor, a palpable, yet inexplicable, sensation, They denigrate and belittle, with words that cut and pierce, Their malevolent intentions, a constant, gnawing, heart-wrenching fear. Their calumny and detraction, a relentless, merciless barrage, Aim to erode my confidence, and leave my spirit in a cage, Yet, I've learned to recognize, the futility of their disdain, For even when I strive to be good, their perception remains in vain. The moment I falter, or deviate from their expectations' narrow scope, I'm transformed, in their eyes, from a paragon to a reprehensible trope, The pedestal they'd placed me on, now shattered, lies in shards on the ground, Their approval, a fleeting dream, forever lost, without a sound. Thus, I've come to understand, that seeking universal acclaim, Is an exercise in futility, a never-ending, Sisyphean game, I'll focus, instead, on being true to myself, and my own