Simbarashe Knox Kaneunyenye



It’s scary isn’t it?

Stuck on this ever-expanding mezzanine

The clock on the wall is existential

Each stroke of the hand writes “Wasted Potential

Songs of The Struggle still echo in these halls

Ghost voices, ghost footsteps, ghost eyes stare through the walls

Their blood cries for the Liberation’s liberated

While the Liberation liberators wallow in poverty, inebriated.


The mouse tries to run up the clock

But its starved body caves in and to the ground it drops

The sound is sickening

DEATH swoops in, silver sickle glistening

Their embrace is swift, body and soul torn

All this I observe from this damned platform.


Held in place between Hell’s heaven and Heaven’s hell

The revolution as prophesied by George Orwell

Where there is no victor, both sides defeated

The leaders won’t say it, they’re much too conceited

Death the only loss left to concede

But even that is a victory for the pain recedes.
Tick-Tock, STOP!

Smash the clock, break it before we all rot

Freeze time, assess this blood clot

Still standing on this elevated cursed rock

The white faces below are hateful and menacing

Snarling, “Nigger! Kaffir! Your Independence is fantasy”
I clench my fists and shiver

I look up, the glass ceiling shows me my future

Nothing but black

No hope, no chance, just poverty in a shack

The results of self-implosion

Results of The Struggle that lost its notion

So i cross my legs and on this mezzanine I remain


Can’t even say the name without disdain.



Name : Simbarashe Knox Kaneunyenye

Location: Harare,Zimbabwe

About The Artist :

We  die twice in our lives. We die the day we stop breathing and we also die the day our names are breathed last. Art is my way of making sure my ideas, my experiences, my feelings and my expressions never die. I write because I want to live forever.

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