Dear diamonds, can't you hear us?
We're right here, buried underneath.
We look above and at you with lust.
You're loved and bright and sparkly.
We coals are easy to use.
We give electricity, we set fire.
We are not you, we make you.
Can't you see we're under 'pressure'?
You were bought for show off,
And show off you do.
For something that gets people robbed,
You sure have a high value.
When pressure does not work on us,
You turn away and sigh
Don't worry, we're non renewable.
Eventually, one day we'll die.
God bless our confused, non existent minds.
We're coals living in a dangerous coal mine.
We do not want to be like you diamonds,
But we do... at the same time.
A poem about insecurities and constantly being under 'pressure' to be like others.
