marginalia

greatness awaits us
upon the page
the empty page
to be composed
in line after lines
and row after rows
of insecurities & sureties
of treacheries & psalmistries
of life depicted & reflected & dissected
rewritten and revised and editorialized
with every drop of ink as blood
squeezed from stone and still...
it's the things doodled and scribbled
the random - both sacred and ribald
for all the tales we tell of ourselves
it's the marginalia that makes us