Failed Civil Order

"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-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Unless those tired and poor are already here,
In which case I will smother them...
Those wretched refuse on my own battered shores
Those homeless and tempest-tossed,
I crush them, dead and dying, by my own indifference!