Fear of New Dreams

The caravans are on TV again

Reminds me of covered wagons

Heading west to a land that isn’t theirs

Laying stake to a better life

Pistol packing saints.

You venerate these works

While spitting on new martyrs

Pilgrims in broken shoes come

To steal our jobs, our money, our women,

The American Dream

Our forefathers fought and died for

This stolen land

The reminder of our crimes

Is their sin

You say get over it

It was a long time ago

Don’t blame me for the past

I shouldn’t pay for the strange fruit

Growing on the gnarled branches

Of my family tree

Watered with blood and fear

Build up walls of stone and steel

While you fence these stolen goods

Ill gotten gains in the name

Of a carpenter prophet

Blessed are the meek

Who will work for cash

And then be turned away

We’re the descendants of dreamers

Afraid to let new ones rest their heads

To escape their nightmares

For only a promise of poverty and a chance.

You ask, what do they know about

Life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness?

Everything