Clothing tattered, they come,
hungry for freedom and food.
Beaten down by oppression and hate
they cry for freedom.

They come by the thousands,
on foot over uncounted miles,
yet we turn them away,
as they cry for food.

Sick and worn, they arrive.
Torn from friends and family,
caged like animals.
They cry for compassion.

They die awaiting relief,
as hope wains across our land.
We ignore their plea,
as children cry for justice.

We all await the return of
conscience and compassion,
and grow weary as time wears on
and we cry…