Re: Secrecy
Posted by Anne Manning on July 25, 2001 at 14:23:58:
In reply to: Secrecy posted by Rupal on July 24, 2001 at 18:22:02:
Reminds me of this poem: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 the faces around the fire
She noticed one of them was black.
The next man looking 'cross the way
Saw one not of his church
And couldn't bring himself to give
The first 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 the light
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 deaths' still hands
Was proof of human sin.
They didn't die from the cold without
They died from the cold within.
Author Unknown
Follow Ups
- Re: Secrecy
lorry 03:27:20 7/27/2001
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