Not like the legacy of spangled flags,
that flew vowing freedom throughout the land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates now sags
a ranting madman with a mouth, whose fame
Is for bigoted discourse, and his name,
Tweeter of Nonsense. A heart that’s vile
flings world-wide insults; and piggish eyes command
with cruelty that the copper lady now be defiled.
“Trash what we vowed, when we were great,” cries he
With ranting lips. “Lock out your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Don’t send these homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I bar the way beside the golden door!”
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