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.