The year of Eighteen Sixty Five
Lincoln, shot and dead
The war was all but over
Destruction in it's stead
Blue and Grey divided
A nation great and strong
Was there ever a true winner?
So much of this was wrong
Brothers against brothers
Tearing families apart
It was a war with different issues
At Fort Sumter did it start
Slaves were not the forefront
When the war became a war
It was a war to stop secession
Then it became so much more
Johnny Reb comes marching home
Not the home that he once knew
It was now a state of new rebuilding
There was no more Grey, just Blue
Did it truly make the country
Unified under one flag?
Or did it become so much more splintered
Under a torn and tattered rag?
A President was murdered
But, the war, continued on
The ties that once did bind them
Were now just truly gone
The beauty of the country
Burned on Shermans' seaward trek
Left the Southern states demolished
And the plantations, just a wreck
The slaves were granted freedom
Through Emancipation at the end
But, in the south, it never happened
The landowners had to bend
Although the war was over
Slaves were free men after all
But, with nowhere left to go to
It was like a game without a ball
Many stayed and cropshared
Worked the same land as before
Now, they worked the land as freemen
Nothing less, and nothing more
Brothers still divided
Blue and Grey deep in their souls
Almost eight score years have passed
And the nation is still not whole
Grant and Lee at Appomatox
Ended the war and sent men on their way
But, it took days for the message to be heard and
Many more died in those days
Three Quarters of a Million
Lost their lives, in this young nation
One thing never altered
The place of a man's station
It split apart the country
Broke it down, to build anew
But, did it really matter
Now, with Johnny Reb in Blue?

Every day
I run boxes
To the doorsteps of -
Magnificent houses
With stone porches
And towering windows
That smell like wood fires
During the winter
And flowers during the summers
With driveways that stretch nearly a mile
Winding
Winding
Winding
Down hills
To overlook acres, many acres
Of land
They are materialized dreams

And on every
mountainous stone porch
Or tree trunk of a door
Or posted at the very bottom of the endless winding drive-
There is a doormat
Or a plaque
A cut metal sign
"The Miller's"
"THE SHERMANS"
"Svobda"
"Kate & Rex"

And I am momentarily so sad
So jealous
Because that is all I want

The woman inside has a husband
With a good job
And a big smile
And her parents love him
And he is nice to her
And he built her a PALACE
And that's all I want
Is OUR last name on a plaque beside the door
But I may never have that
No matter how hard I work