Potential

A Poem

Plastic Verdancy via horti.com

Don’t talk to me about potential
That word makes my skin crawl

It chases me like a false sun
Like plastic verdancy

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My only access to it
Is to smile mildly at it

To relegate it back
To the illusion of achievement

I acknowledge it exists
Maybe mirage, maybe destiny

And know I can do nothing
With these views from the mountain

I can only plant my feet
Shut my mouth

Hum myself a workers’ tune
And climb the path beneath me.