Marginal is a state of being

Saturday, March 27, 2010
The fringes of this world
Wherein hides the unseemly and the chorus of quiet hope
In that dichotomy of fear and faith, truths of dreams freely float
Where we all dance on the edges of our own truths
The nonlinear journey of birth to death and rebirth
The philosophical questions of angels and pins
The fringes have space for the hopeful and hopeless
Can you hear it? Can you feel it?
Senses can not hide from this ‘life in the margins’
Where everything and nothing happens
A place to hide and to return to life
Where we all are coming and going
Paths will diverge and be crossed again
The whims of fates and randomness of chance
Always dictating the steps of this dance
Can you smell it? Can you taste it?
This recurring sense of déjà vu is a compulsion
For belonging and purpose and value
The fringes are the place we resolve this need
Grand answers replaced by simple truths
Ignoring the visionaries and prophets
Rendered obsolete in the peripheries
We stand alone and together in the fringes


  1. Loves the fringe: your words go well with the image and even better with the heart.


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