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Pressure
November 1, 2016
I am sand. Always stepped on, and always left behind. Continuously just an after thought, but who could blame anyone? Why see the sand, when the ocean is there; a vast and mysterious body of water. Complete with an abundant amount of admirers.
I am sand. When the ocean is put through enough heat and pressurre, it turns into nothing, its admirers quickly moving on to a more precious thing. When I undergo immense heat and pressure, I trun into a rock. A rock far too valuable for anyone's good. A diamond.
© Kristin R., Los Altos, CA
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