BY THE NAME OF SOLOMON

Late eighteen hundreds in the North somewhere,

A young boy by the name of Solomon had a life.

From Virginia, Mississippi, his family traveled,

An older brother and of course a loving mother.

A father of no more but remembered and loved,

Together they worked a piece of land, all they had.

No longer slaves but yet enslaved in their world,

Solomon had a dream to learn and become something.

He ran away, saw the reality of what a brother had said,

He would have to go back home, for now, work the field,

A boy by the name of Solomon still dreamed, grew to be.

Keith Garrett