Sweeping the floor makes my head ache. What with the constant bowing and your back bending. But the broom is not for my floor, it’s for other things.
It’s for the attitude of those people who couldn’t seem to find happiness without hurting someone else. They’re actually pitiful, but until they realize that what they do is trash, their life is just plain sad.
It’s for the broken pieces of a heart that was played with by a jerk. It doesn’t deserve to be broken. Unlike trust, I believe that our hearts could completely heal, and then it’ll be whole again.
It’s for the stashed away dreams and your courage hiding somewhere beneath things. They need to come out and join forces to finally do something. We all need to start at some place, and we should get moving now.
And it’s for the problems we have to face. For once, we should do the chasing. It shouldn’t be the other way around. And as far as I know, it’s never the other way around.
How about you, what is your broom for?
This is in response to the Daily Post’s writing prompt Those Dishes Won’t Do Themselves.