Ceiling Fan

You are in a dire despair And the head is blowing You think hard and a bit worry Where you did wrong You quickly come back And enter into your room Switch on the fan And looking at the ceiling It is moving Like your head badly imitating you like a monkey You little bit annoyed And stand up Switch off it It does not stop immediately It keep moving for a while Like your own follies Though you tried a lot To stop to do no more fault But it will take time to stop Like that of ceiling fan They enters through the pores You created out of habit Now you understand It is something like after shock of your deeds look at the fan again and this time more philosophically than the previous one so nicely it sprinkles wind and keep surrounding cool but burns inside and becomes hot but it never makes any one to understand and it never becomes a cause to worry like your good deeds