the cold within
Six humans trapped by happenstance
In harsh 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 her back.
For on the face 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 attered clothes,
He gave is coat a hitch.
Why should his log be put to use,
To warm the idle rich?
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 forlom group
Did naught except for gain.
Giving to only those who gave
Was how he played the game.
The longs 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
I really like that poem. So, I havent updated in a bit. Well, today I went and drove to my grannies house. I like that I go there everyweek to hang out with her and her puppy snoopy. He is so cute. Then me and my mom went to girls where I got a new skirt and a new shirt. I think I might hang out with kerrilee today, but Im not sure yet.
Its been way boring around here latley. Swell. Well, my b-day is on friday. I am totally going to go to morp on my b-day, it will be fun. So yea, if you wanna go with me just halla! lol
~Treezoo~