My R700 Paycheck

I wake up in the early hours on every new dawn

Wherever it's raining or it's cold

To scrub the grounds of the Whiteman

I leave my children still buried under a blanket

Return at dusk when they've already left for bed

I miss every meal at home

My children miss me

My children know not they have a father

Because their father is working to put food on the table.

My children know not my face

My children know not my love

My touch, my voice even my look

My children only know me as the man

Who leaves on the early hours of the morning

And come back after the sun has lost its light

My children have never tasted my advice

Nor endured my scolding 

Because I am never there. 

I work each day from dawn to dusk 

Day 1 to the end of days 

Just for that R700 paycheck. 

I traded my children's love, their time 

Just for that R700 paycheck