Wednesday,Jan 31 2007, 06:59:48 PMTHE COLD WITHIN....Entry for December 23, 2006

THE COLD WITHIN

Six humans trapped by happenstance

In bleak and bitter cold, Each one possessed a stick of wood,

Or so the story told.

Their dying fire in need of logs, The first man held his back.

For of the faces round the fire,

He noticed one was black.

The next man looking ' cross the way, Saw one not of his church.

And couldn't bring himself to give,

The fire his stick of birch.

The third one 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 just sat back and thought, Of 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 his sight.

For all he saw in his stick of wood,

Was a chance to spite the white

The last man of this forlorn group, Did naught except for gain.

Giving only to those who gave, him first,

Was how he played the game.

Their logs held tight, in death's still hands, Was proof of human sin.

They didn't perish from the cold outside,

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