Romantically Incorrect

Potential

That’s what you said you saw in me,
All those years ago.

You, the
Happy-go-lucky
Nigerian girl who
Emitted an aura of
Intelligent muddleheadedness.

Even though I always dragged around,
Epitomizing sadness,
Repelling almost everyone,
You donned the skirt and pompoms,
My emotional cheerleader.

More than that,
You asked me to a school party,
And even though I didn’t fit in
(Much too different from my usual realm:
Books,
Video games,
Silent ponderings)
To an extent,
I still enjoyed myself.

You said to me,
“Like you, I
Once felt the sting of
Depression”
And with those words emerging from the
Fullness of your
Lips, I thought I found the world’s greatest
Treasure:
A kindred spirit.

However,
A wise man once told me,
“What you see
May not
Be.”

When you told me,
“You really have potential,
You’re going to be successful in life,”
Alarms rang in my head.

I thought back to stories,
Women arranging dates with money
Walking down the aisle with living
Dollar signs,
Waiting outside of
Hotel rooms,
Parties,
Upper-class neighborhoods,
Looking for their next
Prospect.

My mind warped to
Coherent cacophonies of
Rappers wondering if women would want them
If they were broke
And for a brief moment,
I saw you in those mental music videos.

I wondered if you always saw me working,
Questing for bestselling authorship,
And thought of getting in on the
Ground floor.

And though I would never call you such,
The unscrupulous vixens surrounding you
Did little to prove your innocence.

... But maybe not.

You could just be a woman who
Heard my desire to be a family man,
And since both our fathers weren’t there,
That was something you couldn’t help but be
Drawn to.
You saw what you liked and
Went for it, and I must say:
You go-getter attitude,
Makes me tip my hat.

But I suppose I’ll never know
My purpose
In your life
Possible Loved One, or
Means To Financial End

    But then again,
    Few men can
    Ever know.