The Real, Bad, Rough, Fresh New Life.. Poem by Gordon David

The bad things that I’ve seen, that are dirty and unclean
The bad things that I’ve done, I just can’t tell you or anyone
The bad things that I’ve said, after having sex in our bed
The bad things that I know, I can never put them on show

The rough places I’ve stayed, could make a grown man afraid
The rough girls that had me, were not sexy, slim, or funny
The rough people I’ve met, their faces I will not forget
The rough life I once led, is not all in my head

The Real pain that I’m in, I don’t know where to begin
The Real passion I feel inside, helps me dry the tears that I cried
The Real love that I hurt, could treat me like dogs dirt
The Real house where I live, can not forget or forgive

The fresh knives in my back, will not cut me some slack
The fresh voices that I hear, are filling me with fear
The new candle is not bright, diminishing by daylight
The new words that I now utter, leaving me lying in the gutter