The Teak Forest

[chipped2003]

Potential


What is potential?
He asked himself,
Will it bring you,
Joy and wealth,
Is it anything,
Inside itself?
Untapped, he had it,
Unpursued,
Lying dormant,
And subdued.
Would the greatness,
Bestowed on him,
Be discounted blessings,
Or idle whims?
Inside, he knew,
His limits were none,
But somehow he failed,
To get the job done.
Come time unstopped,
And wisdom with age,
So young by days,
So far from sage.
Potential was always,
A great excuse,
For all his talents,
Not put to use.
The one who never tries,
Never fails and also dies.
The one who dared,
To take the risks,
Can’t blame himself,
For what he missed.
So many great men,
Turned to sheep,
Potential buried,
Way too deep.
What separates,
The special few,
Who realized,
All they ever knew?
And died fulfilled,
With no regrets,
Of dreams and goals,
They never met.
No English word,
Can pinpoint it,
Not born of brawn,
Or even wit.
Potential,
Is an empty hope,
Of dreamers,
Dangling from a rope,
Clenching tight,
To where they are,
Hanging from,
A distant star.
God bless the few,
Who find their way,
To their potential,
Everyday.
Cursed are those,
Who’ll never know,
But still they die,
Late for the show.