THE NEW COLOSSUS GONE BEGGING

 "The New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus

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.

We come again to our need to recall the promise of America to the "wretched refuse" of other teeming shores. 

Again, and yet again, we trample that promise without so much as a backward glance as we roll on...and who cares if we're going in the right direction? We're strutting our stuff, showing 'em how it's done...and who cares if we do not have a clue our own self? Throw another log on the fire.

I miss Kate Smith singing "God Bless America," and America standing with its hand over its heart and tears of gratitude in its eyes.

Father forgive us for we know not what we do.

Thank you.