We came with hands open wide, hearts full of hope, The stars and stripes whispered, “This land is your land, too.” And we believed them,
but this dream felt heavy. Like chains on our wrists. Like a nightmare to wake up from.
We arrived in the dream, with calloused hands, and the promise that we could assimilate. Could melt us into the ***. But the *** boiled. And boiled. And we were still shackled. Left out like poison to the land.
Lady Liberty holds her torch high, but her shadow stretches long, spilling darkness over the factories where we built their dreams. Her crown wasn’t for us; its spikes a barrier, to remind us where we stand.
This flag, we dreamed of its stars. But they didn’t shine for us. We were no citizens in these chains. We were animals.
This Patriotism binds itself around our throats,
tightening with every whisper to "assimilate,"
with every shout to "go back!"
The American Dream isn’t ours, so break your chains, leave this nightmare, and wake up!
Break free. No longer asleep. We carry the torch and we will not dream. We will act.  We will make America, great for everyone in it.