Today, something abrupt happened to me.
I unlocked my room, and stepped inside with the key.
A tissue box, along with my pen-paper, was lying there.
But actually, there was something which I started to stare.
A bookshelf, possessing a lot of books,
Some of them torned, some unread, were givin' me strange looks.
Those "messy", untidy books, were resembling something.
Trying to figure it out, my "messy" brain was logging and loading....
The decent me, the upset me, took a long time to find,
that the "messy" bookshelf was resembling nothing—
but my own unambitious mind!
-