It is how we are and who we are
that we live out here on the edge
the ragged rim of the world
It’s the nature of our vice
This dark self imposed isolation
Yet the paradox in it shines bright
As the isolation bears heavy
upon our pale and brittle skin
for unless we share our souls
there is but dust in what we do
Each staking a separate claim
along the river of the golden muse
and each naked in hand and heart
bares the working of a soul
tasting the ice in the edges isolation
yet from each site along the rim
the voices of comfort and support
and a song becomes an anthem
so into each isolation a warm voice
‘We know, we understand we’re here’
Bill Mitton
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/voices-on-the-edge-of-the-world-in-honour-of-my/
