This Statue Poem by Emmanuel Arunee Mwanza

That is what we all see...
The statue!
It is made up of so many metals,
Bronze to Gold!
But it is not one we are proud of,
But they all see it!
Because it stands way above so many like it,
Each time I remember of it I cry...
I don't know what she does, maybe cry, maybe just try...not to cry
I don't know what he does, but surely cry is one of them
When a thought of it comes in mind,

It has memories,
This statue...
It looks so brand new,
It is so many years old,
Generations have seen it,
I wonder who is to blame for this statue,
Who brought the ideas
In the first place?

Years ago, it was never there,
This statue, everybody was happy
But it came, somehow,
This...work of art!
This...work of wicked art!
This...work of wicked hearts!
That are happy to live like they don't notice it!
Curved on it are deaths,
Written on it are sufferings,
It is painted in a flag of my land,
Beneath it, I see the blood of my people
Foreigners look at and laugh at this statue

Who owns it?
Us?
No..!
No way!
Who owns it...
This statue?
I bet they are out there behind it...
Asking who?
Look around you...
They are in charge but we look like it belongs to us
They own it!
Feeling no remorse,
Not even ashamed for all laugh at their art,

They, year by year modify it,
The onlookers year by year having jokes at its sight,

Curved on it are names
Names of those killed in the fight against its building
They have tried before...
And,
They try year by year not to allow them build,
Still don't know who?
Look around you!
They are a few of them and many of us
But they are so powerful,
And we let them humiliate us,

We are just a statue,
This statue,
Because we can't move
We are just a statue, this statue
Because we can't hide,

From one angle, one would look at us as a complaining art,
But who can stop these powerful few
Who can?
They, still find ways to anyways,
We are this statue,
This statue

We are this statue, in a way or two or more,
My country is a work of art,
My country is now a laughing stock,
It stands in the public for all to see!
Laugh all they could!
Joke all they could!
But year by year we will cry still,
Yet they won't have mercy to change their ways,
Still leading us in the opposite direction of the rest,

So we stand out like a statue
This statue,
Built by amateurs,
That so many want to try on, with their greedy skills of art,
Yet we know there are better people to do us good,
To demolish this statue of poverty and pain,
To demolish this statue that all laugh at,
For good making our country better,
Different hands!
With totally different thoughts and wishes for us

And then we will seize to be one hell of a beautiful, helpless statue that all laugh at!