A Sad Southern Tale

A sad Southern tale It was a disturbing wonder When, In the midst of a bountiful harvest There arose a call To weed, trim, plunder and even murder Every east, west and northern brethren Who drifted to feast across the southern border? Now you know how to hack and spear your brethren Those who stood yelling, stoop wailing Just to see you, toe Freedom Street Alas, after being spared from your iron shackles Your years was spent ploughing yesterdays wrath While farming today’s seeds of scorn Your bountiful harvest was resentment and hasty judgement Never realising that you were still in bondage brought so much bewilderment from these awakening events Revealing your hidden fetters And soulless chains unraveling the veil Shading up your blind wills And your fallen hopes Now you hear that call Deadening you unto reality Those voices that in time past had thundered your paths along freedom way now resonate with livid hatred prompting you unto violence even to your own kind