Outskirts

[jajdude]

The outskirts of towns tell you you're near
But not quite, for as you move inward
There's a rustle within you, and there
Is also a movement outward

There's an outskirts of hunger too,
A hunger of many faces --
The man who hasn't eaten all day,
And the one who has felt unloved for too long

He's on the outskirts of compassion I fear
And stranded on the edge of desire --
Shipwrecked perhaps on an island of dreams,
Surrounded by strangers with meaningless faces

[PrinceMyshkin]

There is always something commendable in telling it as it is; with, as in this case, a quiet, unforced empathy. Other than that "grandeur" is a somewhat pompous word, I'd apply it to this.