Friendship

Tue, 02/04/2020 - 18:36 -- ngeary2

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.

This poem is about: 
Me

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