Poems about Immigration

You tell me to dream  Yet you take away everything  You tell me to dream And still I'm not good enough  
Angie Brooks who was ironically born in the month of May gave birth to four is as gentle as the stroke of a newborn
I'm from the capital of oil producing place I'm from where people live in actual homes and not caves
I walk and fall but I continue to work hard all day in the field Picking and chopping to try to survive
Dreamer I am Fighting everyday
  It was 1865, And the end of slavery was announced, Yet we were never free,
Run the whole world why won't you.You think you so slick. Thinking that your able
This story starts at a town The name of the man Juan
  Oh that “America” starts with “A” A sign of starting anew Perhaps that’s why each new immigrant
I am a child of the Americas, A fusion of the rich culture of Italy Defining me only begins with my heritage