The Whitest Pearl

I am afraid to love something that is so pure yet wrong

To be a bird flying against a current going To Who knows where

Today I lay consumed by the idea of what we could be However instead I lay back and watch the drowning sea I am flustered looking for my gem among the caves filled with plenty Always carrying obsidian, it is me, looking for my pearl Over looking the diamond in sight, perfect in almost every way Yet, Still searching for the idea of the whitest pearl Only to realize I had wasted years of digging drowning in sweat and tears This diamond to my obsidian was something that couldn’t ever be compared It has no words to be described because it is none like any other The dream of this pearl I had was nothing more than fright of the reality You may look for the one that shines the brightest, turns everyone envious You hold an idea of this milky pearl However, with a little polishing that diamond was something that touched only your soul Soon to come, the diamond was willing to give it all to a piece of volcanic rock which had caused so much destruction Will you hope for the pearl or take your diamond? 

This poem is about: 
Me

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