“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
— Emma Lazarus
What is the Lady doing
With her arms stretched open wide?
Why is she welcoming others
To come across the tide?
Why does she look to foster
The tired and the poor?
Is her light still shining
From the lamp beside the door?
She calls out to the homeless,
To those yearning to be free,
Is her song a sad, sad joke,
If a wall is all they see?