by CeCe Day Hill

Created on: November 05, 2011   Last Updated: November 12, 2011

No one is an island unto himself, except the Statue of Liberty and its symbolism fostering the 2012 elections. Sadly as in the past election, the changes expected became a novelty of words and a divergence from uniformity; radically different giving up a trust, and getting something different in return. Why?

Perhaps one should expect to look within themselves where all decisions start for the greatest change in 2012. So too, does the satire of the Statue of Liberty nailing why Americans can't expect true change until the reasons behind the open floodgate of issues are addressed.

Picture it as you walk past the waters into Manhattan. It is a cool, misty New York morning, a tear seemingly drizzles slowly down the ennoble face of the Lady in the Harbor, and suddenly, Lady Liberty mystically ponders:

Who is my ally, who is my enemy?  "Be'te noire," why is my symbolism of freedom as the French word denotes. . .,so "strongly disliked" by my adopted government?  Yes, imposing is my figure birthed over a ten year period: a statue - a living symbol of democracy to millions throughout the world.

At my feet lies broken shackles of oppression and tyranny, a reminder, lest we forget, American freedom doesn't just happen. As I must be maintained, so too there must be a balance so the right to freedom of choice is not toppled, in a gradual wave of quietness crumbling before the eye.

Lo, my heart is heavy. My torch of hope stays bright, lighting the way of liberty, enlightening the world, still. . . .

I ache. My structure bemoans with each creaking sound, as I, like America, experience over time, a variation of recasts, revisions and reworkings. Yet, I remain the same true to my gifted purpose, while the degeneration of a benevolent nation, the United States of America is challenged by man's virulent course of a justified authoritarian haughtiness over a peoples freedom and constitutional rights.

I am cast in a secondary copper skeletal frame allowing me to move independently weathering the harsh Atlantic storms, yet, I stand upright.

Can those in this land of opportunity do any less? Or will they succumb entirely as they have become weak, cry babies of an emotional sort, lacking the protective insight of wisdom; easily swayed like a buoy marker waning before my eyes lost in a sea of governmental capricious waters.

Oh the numbing winds of political controversy can be bitter, vicious and unjust, but with time, follows the

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