Poems about Immigration

Land of the free and home of the brave. We take the world's pitiful and their worst.
Staring up at the ceiling Fourth year, in a garage. The paint was peeling But the plane was still spinning.
Oh hey! Can you say that you see, the state of our country?
AmericaA land I used to love calling  homeA land I loved and lived in
Each breath taken is An exercise, An experiment that stretches the definition of "American,"
Full to the ceiling Parents and children alike Some get sick Some get stuck Harvesting tobacco
Crucible (Noun).   That Merriam-Webster, you know--
Land of the free And home of the brave That’s what they’d say. Yes,
Where I’m from, The ocean hugs the coast And kisses the sky
My Friends, Sam is at his greatest hour of need. / For our dearest Uncle's prosperity we must reaveFrom those who would threaten it.

Pages