For Real.

having carried
my heart up flights of
weak stairs—

& seen my pride
tumble to levels below
basements, where

sewage resides—

you feel for real—
about you.

having believed
answers existed within
journeyed mysteries—

that our secrets
conceal the things
not revealed—

you, my dear
are so, so for real.

I have never asked
for tears;

I have never hoped
for golden tokens

we learn young
that Earth welcomes
evil where good
hearts roam.

I have seen
my mirrors


into a labyrinth
where phantoms reside—

the aftermath
can keep us tumbling;

the repercussions
can be endless journeys—

neither now
to be my destiny.

Mark Anthony Thomas
Copyright © 2012

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