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!
She stands on her own axis.
She embraces us with infinite compassion.
She is a beacon of freedom.
She defies all the evil in the world, no matter what.
She helps us discover the good in ourselves.
She is an expatriate, finding her way in a new world.
She stands by us in our darkest hours.
She rejoices with us in our lightest hours.
She wears her history perfectly.
She fills us with solace, hope, and courage.
She always tells us something new.
She is proud and bold.
She faces everything life brings.
She belongs to everyone who loves her, but above that, she belongs to herself.
She does it her own way.
She draws us away from the old and into the new.
She is elegant and beautiful.
She is herself.