Books Poem by Naveed Akram

I have discipline with my book,
Absorbed in its content that judges
My bed from its room and space.

I absently wondered about bangs,
The attention has astounded,
Musical whims are again outlandish.

Inside this small country, I think
And I wince at thorough yawns
About the world I glimpse.

This, my body of thought,
Though I consider the mind an alacrity,
Is wondered by some as a feud.

Find me in music books,
Answer the problems for the pages
And I may succumb to you like paper.