Trouble

I've washed my hands of Trouble Not the trouble you get into when you do something wrong But the voice of the ghost I carried along The voice that tells me I'm not good enough The voice I hesitate to silence because I am afraid of my own power Slowly but surely that voice would have broken me But I found the crown of happiness I wear it proudly laid upon my head The voices have been kicked out and confidence has brought his friends along to join my life Trouble may visit, but that's expected He comes only to knock at the door For he will never again get an invitation to come in