The Solitary Confederate

A different kind of Civil War

I drove the backroads years ago
I thought I knew which way to go
The years were many, the roads were long
And I left the one place I belonged

I wrote our names across the sky
In stardust, letting freedom fly
I played the game the way you said
And kept my vigil in my head

I made my way to someplace green
Flattened fields and skies serene
I prayed for mountains, smoke and storm
And earned an anger to conform
Rhyme and reason fled my arms
My well-made plans were naught but harm
I meant to tilt, to stake my ground
But all I did was turn around

When I am gone to ashes and dust
Remember I said there is no one to trust
Love is a myth and luck is for fools
If you want to find happiness, start breaking the rules.

-Zoe Richardson

Author's Note

Surprisingly, not about those Confederates!

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

When I saw the title to this one, I thought it was going to be about your fellow Alabamian Pleasant Riggs Crump, who died at 104 in 1951, the last verified Confederate soldier. Instead, the topic was a familiar one on this site, ideal love gone bad, and the resultant bitterness. I have come to believe romantic love is a kind of drug that takes hold of otherwise logical people and makes them do strange things. The bitterness is the emotional equivalent of a hangover.

[Zoe Richardson]

I may have to write a poem about him! As for love, it is indeed the most dangerous drug known to man. I have no wish to partake of it. I am not bitter, though. I pursued love because it was expected. I learned that freedom is much sweeter, and more important for personal happiness and fulfillment. I am grateful for that lesson, and for the self-reliance it gave me. I have embraced the rebel in me, both literally and figuratively, and am here to spread the word! More or less. Thank you for choosing to read this one and sharing your thoughts. They are most interesting!