The Book I Read Last Night

Crazy is the holy name of the book I had read last night, paper backed And very slimmed priced about dollars fifty three Published and written by none other than this cherubic me The theme is very simple telling about my rise From very humble position and the attention I got From the pompous girls and lustrous women of our locality The critiques analysed it critically and said this is very false But I am telling them I really saw a cute baby Standing quite right at the end of the queue before my fall And I am learnt from the lines of the last page That for me she is still waiting with anxious breath I feel pity for inexperienced her and still I regret I should have continued writing, say, fifty more pages To find her soul a mate but I am very ashamed to say I am made a fool myself and a sense of self cheating creeps in The book is not crazy nor am I, nor are there real critiques Under dark I took a book unknown written by somebody else.