DISCLAIMER: The following poem is written for poetic purposes; it does not reflect the true feelings of its writer.
It is a general assumption that birds fly;
I am a bird with no wings.
I am overestimated for my capacity and my potential,
and yet it is capacity and potential that I lack.
What they say doesn't fly are pigs.
Yet, the connotation of a pig is condescending:
Poor animals have done nothing but exist.
My inabilities dictate this:
I am a pig trapped in the body of a bird.
I am overestimated, expected to fly above all horizons.
"Nothing I can't do", but I of myself can do nothing.
I am a helium balloon buried underground.
I am a fish expected to climb a mountain.
I am a seed without soil and water.
I am a staircase leading nowhere.
A tree that bears no fruit.