Margins

I write in the margins
because I used to live there
an oddity, an anomaly, a correction
wasting valuable space on the page 
until the margins became
too tight to breathe in
too tight to survive in
so I leaked into the rest of the page
sharing my words with others
finding friendship and love.

I write in the margins
because the margins made me.

———

Thanks for taking time to read my poem. I hope you enjoyed. Why not take time to read some of my other pieces?

Take It Easy

Paul

From Your Brothers

There it is again
that distant gaze
powerful, it pierces faraway sandstorms
looking for the memory
of where that long lost piece of you
may be buried
and the Afghan sun can’t even burn your eyes
because you’ve stared so long, so often.

That subtle curl of lip
and your eyes wander softly
back in to the room
amongst the lads, lagers
and a few over-under dressed lasses.

There’s no sand here
and you know the rain
is always close-by
– like us –
we just hope we can help
to find you some hard-earned peace.

Thanks for taking the time to read this poem. It’s dedicated to my friends who’ve spent time fighting for the country on faraway shores.

Paul