Poem -

Ceiling Fan

Ceiling Fan

Ceiling fan blowing cold air on me.
Spinning fast blades running wildly.
Waiting for the twirling to stop.
Hanging from the ceiling thats floating on top.
Your chains work like a switch hanging low.
Pull it once,twice now your in control.
Pull the chain it goes from low to high.
Flip the switch lights jolt on shinning bright.
I wonder who came up with this plan.
The spinning of air from this so called ceiling fan.

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