A meeting inside my head: “Your writing is shit.”

I had a meeting with myself
“Your works not up to scratch.”
I said, a nod of agreement from everyone else not in the room
Ensued
“Quite frankly, you just don’t have what it takes.”
I sighed and took the criticism, felt an urge to apologise
But I carried on with myself, “You can’t cut the mustard, all in agreement with your leaving your writing at the door, put your hand up.”
I raised my hand, including myself
“There we have it. Meeting ¬†adjourned,” I look at my watch, “At 17:05.”