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

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