(Based on a true story published in the Memphis Commercial Appeal, March, 2004)

“Help me with my numbers, Mom,”
The little fellow said.
How could his mother ever know
In seconds, he’d be dead.

She did her best to keep him safe,
To shelter him from harm.
But guns and drugs in the neighborhood
Were cause for  much alarm.

She heard the shots ring out that night,
But this was nothing new...
Until her son fell to the floor
And to his side she flew.

As blood gushed from his mouth and nose,
She fought to keep him still.
And there upon the bedroom floor
His precious life did spill.

It’s hard to understand how bad
The city has become,
But should you ever doubt it,
Just go ask Jawara’s mom.