Southern Border
Not like the mighty woman of olden fame,
With welcoming arms outstretched unto the sea;
Here at our desert-washed, cruelly-locked gates shall stand
A bloated coward with a stubby hand, whose finger
Points at Mother and Child, and his name
Proclaims Trumpery. From his bloated, orange lips
Drip poisonous bile; his bloodshot eyes command
The stubble-littered border that he would further maim.
“Keep, ancient lands, your wretched poor!” cries he
With curling lips. “Give me your young, your white,
Your stupid masses yearning to be me,
The wretched refuse of your "faith-based" schools.
Send these, the foolish, tempest-tossed to me,
I 'lift' their wallets beside my Golden door!”
With welcoming arms outstretched unto the sea;
Here at our desert-washed, cruelly-locked gates shall stand
A bloated coward with a stubby hand, whose finger
Points at Mother and Child, and his name
Proclaims Trumpery. From his bloated, orange lips
Drip poisonous bile; his bloodshot eyes command
The stubble-littered border that he would further maim.
“Keep, ancient lands, your wretched poor!” cries he
With curling lips. “Give me your young, your white,
Your stupid masses yearning to be me,
The wretched refuse of your "faith-based" schools.
Send these, the foolish, tempest-tossed to me,
I 'lift' their wallets beside my Golden door!”
