By: Cedric McClester

Send us your tired,
Your weak and your poor
Though they're not welcomed here
Anymore
For the nightmare
They'll find in store
Once ICE catches 'em
On an American shore

It doesn't make
Any sense
For a nation
Of immigrants
To put others
Behind a fence
Housed in haphazardly
Erected tents

What has this nation
Become
That only is welcoming
To some
Under the sound of
A repressive drum
Ain't it enough
To make you numb

Who or what
Do we wanna be
In the annals of history
Will remain
A big mystery
As long as it's
This blistery






Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2018.  All rights reserved.