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)