Poems about Immigration

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  
The Wet feels like dying, The Wet is wet from crying, The Wet bulk loading the undocumented
Five floors, a cherry tree, and my room on top. I ran down the stairs. I kissed the empty hall goodbye.
We came here to work, not to steal, We are dreamers, not robbers,