Potential
Pressure builds, muscles tear, bones will splinter.
Of course I am proud of the things I’ve done.
Too much weight on my soul, I will never
Ever compare to myself so I run.
New accomplishments drown in the shadows
Thrown by trophies and medals I have won.
I envy kids whose mom’s shot down the stars.
A boy’s wax wings that never see the sun
Let me breathe! I hate the word potential.
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