Potential

Now give me what’s mine.

Potential, potential, my dear Potential.
You’re existential. Come back, please.

Look, I discovered you… lately.
I have you. You have me.
Please, don’t tease.

Life tried to nerf me, but I was deft.
I shone in dreams.
Now reality haunts me.
Or perhaps, it calls me.

Can you tell me my suitor?
Is it a book, a playground, or a cubicle?
Is it a chessboard?

A cookbook, perhaps?
A stylistic dorm, maybe?
What is it?
But it is.

A million stars gaze across the sky.
Yet my spirit has drifted.
And then I ask myself—
Am I not gifted?

Now give me what’s mine.
Potential… not purpose.
Sit no more on my credit,
for you shall have no debit.

A sign, a hint, a gesture.
The universe knows I am a Casper.
Come tonite—I’m awake.

I rest here.
Fill me now with nothing but my potential.
For you, is it not a piece of cake?

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/freedom-fun-person-rope-205790/