I heard a song from Motown --
A Supreme ballad --
And my thoughts drift
To Aiyana Jones:
Shot by the police
In the middle of her home.
Detroit's own,
Aiyana Jones.
Just seven years old,
Sleeping with a princess
Dream in her head -- maybe.
We'll never know,
Because she was fatally
Shot in her home.
Detroit's own,
Aiyana Jones.
And the cameras were
Rolling. I'd like to see
The first 48 hours of
Her father, as he deals
With being pressed in
A puddle of his lil' girl's
Blood; in the middle
Of the home.
Detroit's own,
Aiyana Jones.
Now, memorialized in
Tragedy; immortalized
In poem.
America's own
Aiyana Jones.
