They came with stars behind their eyes,
On ships, on trains, beneath wide skies.
A whispered chance, a torch held high
A place to grow, to ask, to try.
The dream was never handed down, but carved through sweat, tears, and hard work.
It rose in songs and silent pleas, In fields of grain and factory breeze.
A home was built with calloused grace, each brick a vow, each room a place.
Where the future dared to plant its claim, and scars would never look the same.
Yet even now, it shifts and sways.
The dream must walk new, braver ways.
To mean for all what once was few, To breathe again, and rise once true.