Clean sweep!

Any new broom is like first love

It seems it'll sweep (you) at the first sight

But all it leaves is a lot of mess...

It has some flaws and well, who does not?

'It's just a matter of time', you tell yourself (but it's not)

So hard you try to keep it low

And make random movements - some fast, some slow.

But now you know not how it was - cleaner or dirtier before it came

This confusion thus leads you to decide it was pretty much the same...

Gradually you get a hang of it

And life seems easier to deal with it.

But slowly it seems too dreary to carry on

For it's losing its sticks, it has gone gaunt.

And that's when the idea of a new broom comes

But procrastination is the word & all act like bums!

So after a while when you ring out the old, and (b)ring in the new...

You know it will last long for days too few

Because it'll have its own share of drawbacks

So meagre the use and more the whacks!

'This is how it'll be', is what you accept 

You've woken up with and so have you slept

But mind you, be careful for that first sweep

Is never too easy and at least once you weep.

Thus never refrain from first love even if it's a doom

Though be wary 'cuz a broom is nothing but a blend of a bride and a groom!