Value

My heart, my soul, my mind...divine?
Do you not see this moldy slime?
Amaze...
  and grace
    and sleep
      and soul...
I guess I somehow fit your mold.

This nasty paste and some distaste,
  the mire, coal and stones immure.

You see the things upon the shelf
  like artifacts anew.
You hold my pain like sweet domain
  and kiss its very stain.
My heart, my soul, my mind secured
  upon the thought of you.
A diamond forged from pain and strain
  does catch the every eye.