Shelf-Esteem

Oh… I… walked into his place, saw those shelves so high,

Full of leather-bound books, yeh, it was quite a sight.

Tolstoy, Dickens and Milton all there in a row,

He’s a well-read individual, he sure wants us to know.

At home my bookshelf’s empty, just gathering dust,

And I fear, he might sneer, at the absence of Frost!

Encyclopaedia Brittanica, he has the whole set,

While my bookshelf’s as empty as a bookshelf can get.

But I’ve got Austen on my phone,

A little bit of Faulkner when I’m at home,

A little bit of Dickens, yeah, I’m well-read,

A little bit of Kafka, that’s what I said,

A little bit of Melville, late at night,

A little bit of Orwell, on my device,

My shelves are bare, but I read all day,

They’re on my phone, not on display.

He stood by his shelves with a pitying glance,

Said, “Man, do you even give books a chance?

You’ve gotta get reading, it sharpens the mind,

But I guess these days, no one’s got the time.”

He waved at Austen, Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe,

"Without these, where’s your wisdom gonna grow?"

I was shocked at his tone, his open disdain,

All because my own library’s not on display!

Yeah I’ve got Homer, on the go,

A little bit of Chaucer, in the flow,

A little bit of Dante, in the night,

A little bit of Milton, feels just right,

A little bit of Virgil, in my mind,

A little bit of Plato, all the time,

A little bit of Atwood in my ear,

A little bit of Murakami’s clear,

A little bit of Byron late at night,

A little bit of Zadie feels just right,

A bit of Ishiguro in my hand,

A little bit of Blake - now I understand,

You’re just a snob, yeah I’ve read them too,

You sneer, but I’ve read more than you!