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Brotha' Brown (A Tall Tale).

 Old John Brown Never wore locked chains On his wrists But the
hills of Virginia Screamed cries For the noose he wore Round his neck
Brown fought the heat of the South With such passion That the fire in
his eyes Would melt chains Covered in plantation mud And weld them into
guns of liberation Some say That when A member of the Brown family Was
born The melanin Would wear off their skin As midwives Cleaned the flow
Of their mother's womb But the name Brown Stained Old John's
blood So deeply The images of his darker counterparts Ran through the
veins Of his retinas And cried freedom So loud It shattered the stars On
Confederate flags 
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Author:Chestand, Dominique Nicole
Publication:Black Renaissance/Renaissance Noire
Article Type:Poem
Geographic Code:1USA
Date:Jan 1, 2009
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