The clouds advance,
towards me by the pond.
I see as I glance,
the sight I'm so fond.
Slowly it trickles,
to my naked neck.
Feels like a tickle,
making me a wreck.
Homeward I run.
Mother thinks I'm asleep.
Think so I can?
To bed I must creep.
I'm sure I'll be scolded,
for frolicking by the fields.
My character myst be molded,
to be a gentleman I must yield.
This because of the rain.
How it makes me so dreamy.
An excuse I can't retain.
Converting this side of me.
PS: Another High School Poetry.
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