Diamonds Hidden in the Grime of the Streets

Buried deep...like coal in the mine.
Grown to perfection like, the grape on the vine
it was time
Time that made her mature, but the grime of the streets made her value obscure,
made her insecure
She didnt assess the pressure
didnt accurately measure, that the force against her will is what made her a treasure...
the force, thats what it was
Skin black just like coal, burnt so deep it permeated into the core of her soul
so brilliant yet, somehow she didnt know
Black is synonymous to stregnth and in the sun she would glow
but it was what she was told...didnt know who she was
they neglected to tell her
would rather dispel her
she was a pearl and the grime of the streets it shelled her
or should I say entombed? Everything that made her magic
it was the pressure of the streets and the friction became static.
But the pressure of dirt turns coal into diamonds
buried deep in the earth, we think we can measure their worth.
Trapped in darkness brought to light, like a child during birth and that was her!
She was that child the Earth would excrete, a diamond hidden in the grime of the streets.
they walked past and around and sometimes even over, it's like they hulled on the weight
she held heavy on her shoulders, it was the pressure!
The force that made her a treasure, buried deep in the Earth if she'd just measure her worth.
Brought from darkness to the light like a child during birth...
Pressure...now obsolete
A diamond hidden in the grime of the streets.