The Ache of Wasted Potential

The Ache of Wasted Potential

Teachers wrote “gifted” on every single page
Now I’m pacing the bars of a minimum wage
They promised me the world if I just applied my-self
Now I’m gathering dust on the bottom shelf.
The ache of wasted potential, a knot in the gut
Staring at a door that I slammed shut
Holding onto a spark that refuses to ignite

Screaming at the ceiling in the middle of the night.
Every “almost” is a stone in my shoe
Every “should have” turns the day black and blue
Fighting the feeling in a room too small
Waiting for the hammer to finally fall.

The ache of wasted potential, a knot in the gut
Staring at a door that I slammed shut
Holding onto a spark that refuses to ignite
Screaming at the ceiling in the middle of the night.
The fire didn’t fade, it just choked
On all the promises that I broke.

The ache of wasted potential, a knot in the gut
Staring at a door that I slammed shut
Holding onto a spark that refuses to ignite
Screaming at the ceiling in the middle of the night.