This was in Dear Abby last Sunday.....

This was in Dear Abby last Sunday. I thought it was very good.

THE COLD WITHIN​

Six humans trapped in happenstance​

In dark 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 of the faces around the fire,​

She noticed one was black.​

The next man looking across the way​

Saw not one 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 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,​

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.​