On The Loss of Innocence

I can be innocent only in my dreams.
Not in real life. Now all I see
is hunger when I sleep. No streams
of joy, for me to swim in glee.

Once upon a time, I was a rustic.
Gullible in thought, simple in act,
My world was an ice-cream stick
of happiness. Of less intellect.

Time has passed by, I have grayed
into a complex creature. No realms
of thought are taboo now, I'm afraid
I can be innocent only in my dreams.