It Once Was Potential

Give me a pen and paper.
I can change anything.
My potential to save, rests in the paper.
I think. I scribble. I write.
The Potential has vanished.
Now It's only words on paper.
It still tears.

Give me the tools.
I can fix anything.
My potential to save, rests in the tools.
I pound. I turn. I saw.
The potential has escaped.
Now it's only a bench that stood.
It's still standing.

Give me the sign.
I can believe anything.
My potential to save, rests in you.
I pray. I sing. I try.
The potential has disappeared.
Now it's only me.
I'm still broken.