Let them come, I say,

Like of pack of wild animals.
They act like monkeys
Or better yet,
Snakes.
They bite the hand that feeds them.
The hand that nurtured a country that was not theirs.
The hand that continuously works, night and day.
Let them come I say.
Let them try and coil around the flames they ignited.
A desperate attempt to put them out,
But this hand is scorched with the strength of the sun.
The strength of a phoenix.
These hands will spring up from the earth,
Renewed and Free.
We will come
And I do not have to say this.
We will come stained with the blood
Of our sisters and our brothers on our hands.
We will no longer be just a hand.
We will claw our way up,
And stand tall
And raise that hand you bit so readily
Into a fist.