Gedicht
Mzi Mahola
HOUSE OF THE POOR
HOUSE OF THE POOR
HOUSE OF THE POOR
When I was a little boyI never questioned why
A solitary path
Led from a poor man’s hut.
Why it zigzagged
Like the trail of a wounded beast.
Now that I’m a burdened man
I know why the rich are troubled
When we grumble.
© 2000, Mzi Mahola
From: When rains come
Publisher: Carapace Poets, an imprint of Snailpress
From: When rains come
Publisher: Carapace Poets, an imprint of Snailpress
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HOUSE OF THE POOR
When I was a little boyI never questioned why
A solitary path
Led from a poor man’s hut.
Why it zigzagged
Like the trail of a wounded beast.
Now that I’m a burdened man
I know why the rich are troubled
When we grumble.
From: When rains come
HOUSE OF THE POOR
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