A bump.

She walked high that day,
In a flurry of some newly acquired confidence.
Sweet smile on that face,
Eyes still intense.

So on and on she marched,
Secretly worrying about that little hiccup,
Pampering her soul with newer ideas,
Her speed each second picking up

But then suddenly she hit a little stone,
And bruised herself some.
A very small bump this was,
But it did leave her numb.

It had shaken her back to her present,
The confidence gone, no pretense.
And now tears in the eyes replaced the smile,
As if accusing her own self for being happy, for being CONFIDENT.