A yellow load of potential
drove past me yesterday
It’s hard to see its fullness
from my porch
Could the answer for our future
be traveling down my street
Might a problem of tomorrow
sit beside her
Potential has no moral compass
nor does it bend to one
All those on the bus have it
Their choices and mine
set the path
And now I’m thinking
did they look at me
on my front stoop
and wonder about me
Do they imagine my potential
And that leads me to consider
do I?

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