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Lady Liberty Wasn't Always A Lady



Here are the most celebrated words of poet Emma Lazarus's sonnet, The New Colossus, which are inscribed within the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty.    

"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-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

I must of recited it a thousand times over and over again in my mind. I thought about it deeply, about what it meant to me personally and what it meant to my people and how it related to history. I analyzed my thoughts, did a lot of contemplating and soul searching and when I was finally done this is what the Truth Faerie said I should write;

My ancestors, they were slaves trapped in Liberty's hell
Yes, they were the huddled masses that Liberty failed
Several generations later and we're still living in jail
Blacks in overpacked prisons paying Liberty bail
See, it's hard to relax when you're in Liberty's cell
And even then you're being taxed for your liberty mail
Perhaps an ounce of the facts would serve Liberty well
That would probably mend the crack in The Liberty Bell
They say they all know how to act wherever Liberty hails
Like they only smoke crack where no liberty dwells
We were stabbed in the back with a Liberty nail
But still a brother gets smacked down when he rebels
Tell me, just how many lies will Ms. Liberty tell?
Look into my eyes and ask, Is this liberty?___Well...
Somehow I guess it would be if you lived in a shell
And never had to play the black sheep in Liberty's tale
No, we wouldn't have to ask if we could do it ourselves
I won't rest until I'm free and Lady Liberty yells...

Free opportunity for everyone!!
For every daughter and every son
Let freedom ring for one and all
The mighty, the weak, big or small
For those that are observant or blissfully unaware
For those that do or do not care
Let it be for black or white
For those with vision or without sight
For all of the masses, every race, religion and creed
For those that want and for those in need
From every valley low and every mountain side
Let freedom reign and all abide...




(In closing)

The hand of Lady Liberty was not extended to those without a voice
Or to those that were born without a choice
I ask again, what was their reason to rejoice?
There they stood outside the golden door
Tired and poor, yearning to breathe free
Wretches from another shore refused by the arms of Liberty
For they were the homeless, the tempest tost
Stolen from another at unrelenting costs
They stood outside looking in with dismay
As freedom went about its merry way
Reminds me of the way things are today
Before you judge these words take a look deep in my heart
And see that we should all be free from the start.





The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "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-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Emma Lazarus, 1883









 











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