The South

There was that time when the South

was the breadbasket of America.

It produced most of the food for the North.

So much so that the failure of the Southern crops

spell depression for the whole of the country.

And then there came that time when the South

needed more labor to man the fields

and so they got this labor from Africa.

And so started that time when America

fell into a sad story.

It was merry at first,

what with riverboats on the ol’ man river,

and fences to be painted white,

frogs jumping in the long hot summer,

romance was in the southern air.

The South held the American enterprise

while the North held its conscience.

The cabin of Uncle Tom held African slaves

that provided unpaid labor 

for the Colonels of the South.

Comes now the conscience of the North

in the person of Abe Lincoln,

himself a Southerner with an emancipating heart.

In this situation comes General Grant who ceased

hauling wood in buckboards to re-enlist

and win battles for the North

including the final one.

After this the enterprise of the South

went with the wind to end up with the North.

The South now becomes the conscience of America,

smarting with its loss

and grumbling with heavy hearts,

and skinned heads and pointed hats.

In time, this nationalistic pride turned to 

a Southern pride under the guise of white supremacist.

Presently, as the West becomes more profitable

and the East becomes more powerful

the South looms as one mutinous force that could

be sparked by one single rabble-rouser

who could trumpet the rude realization

that Uncle Tom could actually

vote in an American President.

(And here we go)

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