Po'

They say "I’m po."

Not poor in spirit

not poor in vision

just po enough

to know the difference between

having nothing

and doing nothing.

See, some people are born into "po".

Empty cupboards.

Secondhand shoes.

A future that arrives already repossessed.

But others…

Others practice being po.

They wake up with potential

sitting on the edge of the bed

like sunlight through broken blinds

and still pull the covers over their heads.

That’s a different kind of poverty.

I’ve seen people with full plates

starve their own purpose.

Seen minds sharp as switchblades

left rusting in the drawer

because discipline

requires effort.

You say you’re po?

No

you’re “po” as in postponed.

Dreams delayed until tomorrow

that never files a flight plan.

“Po” as in power omitted.

“Po” as in possibility outlived.

Because real poverty

is not the absence of resources

it’s the burial of ability

under comfort and excuses.

I know folks who had nothing

but a library card

and turned it into a kingdom.

And I know folks with opportunity

stacked like skyscrapers

who never learned to climb stairs.

Same 24 hours.

Same sunrise.

Different hunger.

See, laziness

is a slow funeral

for potential.

Every “I’ll do it later”

is a shovel of dirt

on the grave of who you could have been.

And the tragedy is

most people won’t notice the death.

Because wasted potential

doesn’t scream.

It whispers.

It says:

“Maybe next year.”

“Maybe when things settle down.”

“Maybe when I feel ready.”

But potential

doesn’t wait forever.

It expires.

And one day

you wake up old enough to remember

who you almost were.

That’s when “po” changes meaning.

Not poor in money.

Not poor in status.

Just po—

as in potential omitted.

And that kind of poverty

no government can fix.

Because the cure

was always sitting inside you

waiting

for you

to stop being comfortable with “po.”