The Gold Under The Grime Poem by Bianca Free

We're inside out. Our truth's outside
In lies, we confide
Not knowing our identities, we are a danger
We could be criminals. Others are inclined to find
Our evil essence...'cause it shines
Like a dot of gold under grime in a stream
It's petty, but still it exists, and it gleams
Intense, like the sun
It'll never lose it's shine, not even over the years
Beaten by the wind or worn by the waves
Dimmed, day by day, it'll still have some shine