I didn't want my children to go hungry They laid on the floor , holding onto their belles, groaning in pains of hunger It broke my heart So i placed myself on the chopping board , i became meat , my blood became stew , so they could dip their bread and eat. I didn't want my children to go without shelter... They sat out shivering in the cold , scorched by the sun. It broke my heart So i bent my form , disfigured myself , until the shade was big enough to shelter them. I didn't want my children to feel the wickedness of the world They were young , naive , oblivious to the ways of the cold war of life. I became a safe camp , my heart was the wood that burned to keep the darkness out. I am the lonely old hag living in the hut , in the bush | Quote by MARIS CHIKANMA