A girl sits,

head buried in hands,

eyes burning with unshed tears,

troubled spirit tearing at her innards.

Images swim before her,

memories of agonizing days gone by - 

her mother's furious face,

the cross words hastily hurled. 

"You'll never succeed in life," she said,

"if you keep up this attitude." 

So the girl sat,

self-doubt arising like an irate monster

battling away her every thought. 

She never would be any good.

She never would succeed.

"Too lazy. Too stubborn. Too late,"

her inner voice whispered.

But in sudden determination

she cast away those thoughts

and stood up

and wrote a poem 

and chose instead

to live her own life,

to thrive,

to survive.