A SPLENDID SOCIETY OF ALL THE SAME

Coal: just a lump of wasteful trash,
Broken, brittle and black,
Distasteful ash,
A cluttered-up clump.
Crumbling in your fingers
Wasted chances;			
Cinder and soot.
Told that you are the Earth and her Sun,
Assured that your pressure works
On everyone.
A cluttered-up clump
Until pressure applied
Makes it a stone
And right at home.
Am I self-exiled and alone,
For I'm not on the ring;
just one more stone?
A jewel of my own?
I looked for life's meaning
Here inside me
And found it there

The soot I leave reminds you		
of the answer you haven't yet found
In your ring
In your light of acceptance
In yourself
In your glimmering
Clear
Diamond.
You may press all that your like
You may ask me to shut-tup and give in
To your repression
To your order of sorted gems
To your kind
To your dismal gray
World
Of clones

My fire will consume
My ashen marks will continue
Long after your ring has been buried
Upon the hand that wore it.

JASON KONSCHAK