House of the Poor by Mzi Mahola

When I was a little boy
I 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.

http://www.cca.ukzn.ac.za/index.php/poetry-africa/past-participants/223-mzi-mahola-south-africa