We are of Hypocrites made

We are of hypocrites made,

Our too familiar tales of  huddled masses

and nations fled for  futures bright

across the Atlantic's broad blue wings

in hopes that stability might soon ignite

are too soon forgot, while hatred rings

like a shattered bell in all our ears

a loud and harpish snarl to smother

the anxious creeping, repressed fears

that bark and howl at all things other

Are we not all of migrants made?

are not we of  different threads weaved?

Must our Nation's promise fade,

to bleach out our ethnic tapestry?

 

 

This poem is about: 
My country

Comments

Blake Hollis

I uderstand the issue is more complex than what I have submitted in this poem, I would just like to encourage people to use empathy. 

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741