I Hear America Crying

I hear America crying, the varied cries I hear, Those of families, each one crying theirs as it should be, tired and poor, The Dreamer crying hers as she prays for a path to citizenship, The autoworker crying his as he struggles to find a job, or is fired from one, The nurse crying what belongs to her in the hospital bed, as her patient breathes his last, The veteran crying as he sits on his bench, looking for a place to sleep, The teachers crying in their cars, in the morning, or at noon intermission, or at sundown, The mournful crying of the incarcerated, of the wrongly accused, longing to be free, Each crying what belongs to him or her and to none else, The day what belongs to the day – at night the party of young addicts, Unwanted, broken, Crying through clenched mouths their anguished despairing songs.