It's easy to underestimate yourself. It's so easy to put yourself into a box with no room to grow or change. There's nothing harder than trying to recognize what you're really made of and I know that it's something I struggle with.
So, here's a sonnet about it.
* * *
A glass statue stands by the ocean coast
Softly reflecting the essence of blue
Which haunts it the same as a stubborn ghost
Refusing to retract its spectral hue
Arrows leave cracks on its glossy surface
Words that should shatter it into pieces
Yet somehow the fault lines only worsen
Instead of buckle against increases
It's here that the truth becomes plain to see
With each strike, it's clear that glass could not stand
A stronger material it must be
As opposed to heated and hardened sand
So exists this statue of bright blue-green
The royal and beautiful turquoise queen