“Give me your tired, your poor…” That’s what the tablet says But the policy says something different every single day Lady Liberty shining bright like she’s calling them home but the welcome dies fast once they step off the foam "Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free" but we greet them with raids, not opportunity Over 142,000 deported last year and another 200k-plus returned out of fear We praise immigrants when the economy’s tight then blame them for problems they didn’t ignite We say they “take jobs,” but that talk is hollow because over half our farmworkers have no status to follow Try running this country without the labor we dismiss watch the crops rot dry and the GDP dip We brag about freedom like it’s carved in blood but the promise gets drowned in a paperwork flood Don’t carve “give me your poor” in stone if you slam the door when they come Don’t raise a torch for the tired then act like hope’s a loaded gun You preach freedom like a brand but the actions don’t line up proud be the nation on the plaque not the panic of the crowd We deport the hands that keep our lights turned on the ones building the homes that we lean upon We kick out workers who cook and clean then wonder why inflation hits every routine Families split up in the name of “law,” while corporations profit, no hesitation, no flaw We criminalize survival, weaponize need but the Statue says the opposite, and we forgot how to read “Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,” but the message got edited for modern TV Now it’s: “Not here. Not you. Stay away from our shore.” Funny how quickly compassion hits the floor We wave the flag like we invented mercy but the data keeps calling us out the numbers don’t lie, but we do when we drown compassion in doubt Don’t carve “give me your poor” in stone if you slam the door when they come Don’t raise a torch for the tired then treat humanity like a threat to overcome You preach freedom like a brand but the actions don’t line up proud be the nation on the plaque not the panic of the crowd A torch is supposed to guide not blind A poem is supposed to welcome not hide If we meant the words we show we’d change the way we draw the line Don’t carve “give me your poor” in stone if you don’t plan to let them in Don’t light the torch of freedom while you wall off where it begins If the promise still matters prove it, say it out proud Be the nation on the plaque not the nation of the loud
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