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The Cold Within
The Cold Within
Six humans trapped by happenstance
in black and bitter cold
Each possessed a stick of wood,
Or so the story's told.
Their dying fire in need of logs,
the first woman held hers back
For on the faces around the fire
She 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 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 his sight,
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.
And the last man of this forlorn group
Did naught except for gain,
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game.
The logs held tight in death's stilled hands
Was proof of human sin,
They didn't die from the cold without,
They died from the cold within.
James Patrick Kenny, a high school student
10/19/2005 3:35 pm
Oh DAMN! THAT WAS A GOOD POST. I love it. It only proves that everyone has their own ideas in life. Not saying they are the right ideas, but ideas nonetheless. I think we all should show some love to each other regardless of what we have, or have not. |
Thanks for that TomE
10/19/2005 9:20 pm
TomE- That is so very good! Very appropriate in a society that has become flooded with the "I got mine" attitude; yeah we need to realize more that we are here "together" and not alone..|
10/19/2005 9:31 pm
hey tomE I like the pic nice goggles and your pic is in the slot on themain blog page aint that cool. this young man who wrote that has been here before a lot of wisdom for some one who is young|
10/20/2005 4:31 pm
powerful words that could change the world if heeded|
will his generation bring a more humane world
or was this just the last gasp of someone's youthful idealism
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero,
Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.