In silent rooms, they make their mark,
A whisper turned into a spark,
A symphony of silly winds,
From where the laughter soon begins.
They sneak around in quiet halls,
A chorus in the stillest walls,
A playful note, a mischievous jive,
Bringing humor, making us alive.
In gatherings or moments lone,
Their presence makes us not alone,
A giggle here, a chuckle there,
Farts spread joy beyond compare.
So hereâs to winds that make us smile,
That break the silence for a while,
A natural jest, a human art,
The timeless tune of every fart.