Motown

They craved our country

What we made pop

They performed our jazz

And thought they related to our hip hop

They saw our culture as one for the taking yet

They never wanna feel how hard our souls been aching

Half past five when

The city comes alive 

With vibrant melodies that leave you mesmerized

As the affliction tormenting minds

Translates into cultural scribe

They want not these blues baby

They want not these fears

No matter how hard they call oppression

And cry their ivory tears

They ain’t got these blues baby

And they remain negro blues

For with a complexion of mine 

The only sanctuary I can find is the

Motown in my mind

Written: April 25, 2019