Where is my innocence hiding?

Riding home last night,
I caught a kid playing in my sight,
It rose a thought that to me, was residing,
“Where is my innocence hiding?”.
I searched it in my child,
but it left him when that cute girl smiled,
now he was nothing but 17 & wild.
That night I slept less and thought more
this was a question I couldn’t score.
I looked for it again the next day,
Took my cycle past street, forest, and bay,
A woman was looking pale and old,
But I knew she punished her daughter-in-law for gold
beside her sat a boy of eight
but he was already dwelling on the iBait,
I searched for innocence in animals and birds;
but they too were oppressed by weapons of nerds,
I looked into that water which seemed shallow,
But only found the same trash as in the mellow.
In the eyes of people of all ages,
In the sounds of birds inside and out of their cages,
In the performances of nature’s stages,
In the heart of farmers without wages,
There were all kinds of regret, hate, and sorrows, some were darker than the deepest borrows.
With every turn nothingness came colliding,
And I failed once again to answer where my innocence was hiding.
Lost and tired at last I came home,
And there sat my lover as silent as a storm.
I looked at her with all my might,
She stared back at me, no innocence, no love, lifeless was her sight.
Then I moved to my baby girl who seemed innocent but life is clever,
No one, not even her’s can hold this innocence forever.
Now, I was done deciding; there’s no place my innocence was hiding.
For once and for all,
I accepted innocence as an illusion for whom I did fall
And no more am I repeating this,
But suddenly it came to me like bliss.
It was my diary in the end, unaffected by time and trend.
It heard my fears and sorrows without being clever; it recorded my emotions without complaining ever.
I then flipped its pages,
In what felt like ages,
Then I found the work of glory,
On page 52 was an incomplete story.
There sat people whom I created,
They were the ones I never dated.
All of them rested there, silent and abiding,
And that’s where I saw the actual innocence hiding.