Broom

The moment of the day I am born When I get a knot around my waist And a nail pressed at my bottom To make sure I am sufficiently tight To fight away dust and keep away dirt From the places people live in But no respect or honor I am shown In the best possible way when my job is done I am put to stand in a corner of a room Or on the floor left to roll down I do not know too much about west But in east I get a nasty superstitious job to do To beat people to dispel evil spirit By which they are supposedly possessed with But I feel the worth of my birth when I am used As an effective weapon by women To broom man up when their modesty is outraged Or an honest man holds me up when society is dying with corruption.