The Cold Within
Six humans were trapped by happenstance
in black and bitter cold,
Each one possessed a stick of wood,
or so the tale is told.
Their dying fire was in need of logs;
the first man held his back,
Because, on the faces around the fire,
he noticed one was black.
The next man, looking across the way,
saw one not of his church,
And couldn't bring himself to give the fire
his single stick of birch.
The third man sat in tattered clothes,
he gave his coat a hitch;
Why should his log be put to use
to warm the idle rich?
The rich man sat back and thought
of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned
from the lazy shiftless poor.
The black man's face bespoke revenge
as the fire passed from sight.
For all he could see in his stick of wood
was a chance to spite the white;
And the last man in this forlorn group
did naught except for gain,
Giving only to those who gave to him
was the way he played the game.
Their logs held tight in death's stiff hands
was proof of human sin;
They didn't die from the cold without
they died from the cold within.
Author Unknown
Categories: daily-thoughts sin attitude perspective
in black and bitter cold,
Each one possessed a stick of wood,
or so the tale is told.
Their dying fire was in need of logs;
the first man held his back,
Because, on the faces around the fire,
he noticed one was black.
The next man, looking across the way,
saw one not of his church,
And couldn't bring himself to give the fire
his single stick of birch.
The third man sat in tattered clothes,
he gave his coat a hitch;
Why should his log be put to use
to warm the idle rich?
The rich man sat back and thought
of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned
from the lazy shiftless poor.
The black man's face bespoke revenge
as the fire passed from sight.
For all he could see in his stick of wood
was a chance to spite the white;
And the last man in this forlorn group
did naught except for gain,
Giving only to those who gave to him
was the way he played the game.
Their logs held tight in death's stiff hands
was proof of human sin;
They didn't die from the cold without
they died from the cold within.
Author Unknown
Captured by Grace |
Categories: daily-thoughts sin attitude perspective
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