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