Poems about Immigration

Where I can walk down the street and get shot for being me
when my family came to this country,a ship sailing across a thrashing sea,
I will no longer lift my lamp Beside this tarnished door. My arm is tired. So few believe
We say the land of the free And yet we have a scandal about our President’s Pee.
As a little girl coming from South America to this new country,
"Why do we even have scholarships for minorities?" You know, you're right
New York The Big Apple Largest city in America She has welcomed many
America A melting pot of people Where the diversity is what is put into it,
What does it mean to be free? To be on your own To be left alone To not be under any control

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