A nation split: division, hate,
where once the world had called us Great.
Our nation’s pride had reigned supreme
but then a distant, faded dream.

Now Harvey’s gone, but Irma’s near.
We dread when hurricane season’s here.
The storms of life, the tales of woe.
These troubled times won’t let us go.

But in the midst of life’s travail
America’s spirit will not fail.
Forgetting race, ignoring creed,
We rush to help those in great need.

As strangers aid in victims’ flood
We rediscover we’re all one blood.
The contrast clear, what makes us grand
is not division, but helping hands.