Only gemstones, plain corundum
Slathered on sheets or stones with epoxy
Grinding metals and cutting and polishing.
One may question their value
Clear versus coarse to opaque
Some made in fire, others born of it
Some in graphite blocks, others in mud
Yet they are the same
To me they are just corundum
Like most, mediocrity bound fools
Trying to hold value in their errands as tools
Pity, ah yes, Pity
That I do not possess for such insolent
In their wake, they are only gravel
In the absence of light, and there is so much.
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