And some, I assume, are good people
Dear Trump, I'm a weed in this land of the free An invasive species sucking the decency of each grain of soil that comes before me I must be eliminated immediately before I spread, before I grow roots But my roots dont know any other soil I've committed no crime but my birth was my wrong The gospel is the tale of my people, for I was born a sinner Wet backs more than camels but still thirsty every step I must pay for my parents when they dared gaze at the sun hoping <p>Paragraph three.</p> Because only the righteous fruit have the liberty to stare at the sun <br />Only their eyes can withstand and undress the light of day <br />The hour of sleep we scavenge beneath the moon but never when full <br />Always covering our trail never wanting to wake you up from your stupid dream <p>Paragraph four.</p>Your dream of liberty and so called equality <br />Stained with red, white, and blue <br />Living a life in a bubbly of what you refer to as normality <br />To opaque to see the rest of the colors <br />And so we are pushed to the sidelines <p>Paragraph five.</p>It's not as easy as it's played out to be <br />All these requirements and regulations <br />Waiting list and endless background checks <br />And if your circumstance doesnt fit their criteria well than thanks but dont come again <p>Paragraph six.</p>According to you, all I am is a burden to the economy <br />And I'll steal the people's jobs that pay below minimum wage <br />And I'll get pregnant at a young age and sign up for food stamps <br />I'm the ultimate minority a hispanic, low income, female <p>Paragraph seven.</p>But you best believe I dont plan on leaving <br />My roots are cemented deep in the heart of the States <br />And I'll show everyone that I too can live the American dream <br />Because you can control weeds but you'll never get rid of them permanently