CCC #64
Little Evie Sorensen
Was born of drunken stock
To a man who drove a push-broom
And a woman with one frock.
She grew up cold and hungry
But she never shed a tear
When she went without her supper
So her parents could have beer.
She had no friends to speak of
‘Cause they moved from room to room
So she’d while away the hours
Playing horsey with dad’s push-broom.
And a gallant steed he was
That push-broom horse with her astride
As they left behind the squalid walls
Of this week’s cramped bedside.
Nights she waited at the window
Not for her dad, but for her roan
Till one night she saw her drunken dad
Stumbling up the street alone.
“They grabbed me in the park there
Near Lord Nelson’s monument
And before I knew what happened
I was eating the cement!”
“One grabbed and swung my push-broom
But, thank god, it hit the garden wall
Or he’d a split my head clean open
Whew! Was that ever, a close call!”
As daddy raved and mommy wept
Cause he’d come home with no beer-
Little Evie Sorensen
Shed her first real tear.
This is my response to the photo prompt provided by Crispina Kemp on this weeks Crimson’s Creative Challenge.
Thru Violet's Lentz 
This is so well written.
LikeLiked by 1 person
crazy prompt this week. i had no clue what would write till I saw the broken push-broom.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And I didn’t see it till now! Very observant.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, that’s so… so… enchanting. And sad. And an excellent use of the prompt. 🙂
LikeLike
a kind of cynical Ogden Nash feel to your poem – brilliant to me!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It came to me when I saw the broken push-broom, head on the ground, handle in the flower box….
LikeLiked by 1 person
dark inspiration indeed!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I did like this one Violet, well done.
LikeLike
What a fantabulous imagination you have! And I love that you totally ignored the statue and focused on that little broken push broom!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I saw the broom part first and then the broken handle and it was on..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Was great!
LikeLike