The wind blows through the window as I think of the day,
The silent television eager to play.
I think of the people, so close and caring,
As I watch the spinning fan, closely staring.
The ones that keep me going, the ones I always need,
The ones that never handle my everlasting greed.
The good ones and bad ones, they shape who I am,
As I closely stare, at the spinning fan.
I lay in bed at night, it’s now 11 o’clock,
My dirty laundry on the floor, including my dirty socks.
My lost and present friends, who believe that I can,
As I watch the quick pace of the never-ending fan.
And I think to myself, my friends are quite like it,
The fan that never stops, not even for a minute.
It’s quick and tireless and always around,
As my friends show up next morning to take away my frown.