The kid's poster

I was a kid in a puddle then,

the ways were black and white

leading somewhere I never knew

except for a concealed few.

On my way to the school

there was a poster on the bus stop,

poster of naked girl,

A lady she was, she was in my dreams,

In every blink of my eyes!

I felt something strangely alienated,

unsure and dubious about me.

I accompanied with my guilt,

I never changed my way,

Nor did I miss any sneak peek.

I was fond of her,

it was a routine to think of her.

One day there was heavy rain,

Mom and Dad fought over a grain.

I thought it was me and my way.

So sometimes the guilt changed the way

and sometimes I blamed my day

but the rain never stopped.

The kid drowning in the puddle had desired the poster,

today the flood has drowned the puddle,

the kid still desires for the poster profane

but the poster has become blur in the rain.