narrow lined paper,
college-ruled;
perpendicular
red boundaries,
front and back.
only left demanded
observance, right
a mere suggestion,
a hint of moving on.
what use could we
make of tangible
margins, neat
demarcations to
guide our steps?
as points of entry
and departure ever
providing checks
and balances.
Peace, people.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
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MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
I like the thought. In my case, the margins were just where the teacher put a lot of scribbles in red ink, usually not to praising my handiwork, sadly.
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I’ll never forget the day a teacher told me it was ok to write in the past the faint red line on the right. The first few times I did it I felt like I was breaking some big rule. Bad girl!!!
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It’s funny the tiny little things that seemed like huge great rules when we were kids. 🙂
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I was better at following rules than just about anything else. Hmmm. Might be a blog post in that sentence.
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There could be! 🙂
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Amazing write, writing in the margin was a major move for any child when I was at school haha, we were encouraged to cover our jotters in wallpaper to act as a cover of sorts lol
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Reblogged this on Letters & notes and commented:
Nice, really enjoyed this one today.
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Thank you so much!
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