Diamonds in the Rough

Rocks too clear for fuel to burn,

Hidden amidst the anthracite,

The mining drills twist and churn,

Carve through them with spite.


Taken in with all the coal,

Considered not good for use,

Discarded from the haul,

Then ground down with abuse,

They think they’re not enough,

But they’re diamonds in the rough.

By Konstantijn Rondhuis

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