The Cold With-in
Six humans trapped by happenstance
In black and bitter cold.
Each one 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 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 just sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store.
And how to keep what he had earned
From the lazy 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 still hands
Was proof of human sin.
They didn’t die from the cold without,
They died from the cold within.
moral: Greed is a seed that grows, if you reep what you sow then plant a harvest of good morals. I have learned through wordpress that sharing is a wonderful thing. I have learned much through reading others that are willing to share their thoughts and emotions, their stories nd their wisdom.
there is a fire in us all, that which burns, a yearning, a desire, a fire
love is sharing your flame of passion and desires
greed is that which steals them away
we are all little fish caught in the current of life