First Generation

I was once told that America is the home of the brave, and the land of the free,

So ask yourself: Who were the founding fathers of the American Dream?

Were they not from families that came overseas?

As a first generation, I can speak for those who dream:

Illegal I am not, but I was a product of that same American Dream,

And I will say "GET OUT" to the nonbelievers,

Who don't know the struggle,

Those who make me want to scream!

 

Proud of my roots,

And noble are the dreams,

Of the immigrants of this country who dream.

 

Labeled as criminals,

Those hardworking "illegals".

Yet they pay taxes,

And wish to go to school,

Just like you, and just like me.

Not a cent from Social Security they'll recieve,

Yet they call this place home,

This beautiful land of the free.

 

Millionaire men call them "dealers" and "cheaters",

Don't call them all beaners:

They're not all Mexicans, we're Latinos,

We're Europeans, Asians, and others peoples,

 

Have you heard anything from Washington?

Because they're watching the news everynight,

Never loose hope,

Those living in the shadows,

These poor peoples,

The spirit of America are the Dreamers,

And all the "illegals",

Just like the citizens like you and me,

Who are fortunate enough to simply say:

"I have papers; You can't cuff me."

 

Help us Lord, help us please!

One of my prayers for every night is for those who dream!

For my friends, my family, those who were forgotten, and those like me who still believe,

In that pure American Dream,

That you know very well we must achieve.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country

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