Hello all! Just want to share this awesome poem that was read during this morning’s church service. The author is unknown, but this piece is powerful. Enjoy!!

Six humans trapped by 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 flame

She noticed one was black.

The second man looking all about,

Saw no one of his church,

And couldn’t bring himself to give

The fire his stick of birch.

The rich man sat and thought

Of all the wealth he had in store;

Why should his stick be used to warm

The lazy, shiftless poor?

The poor man sat in tattered clothes,

He gave his coat a hitch;

No way would he let his stick be used

By the greedy selfish rich.

The black man bitter and full of rage,

Held his oak branch tight;

For all he saw in his stick of wood,

Was a chance to spite the white.

The last man of this forlorn group

Did nothing except for gain;

Giving only to those who gave,

Was how he played the game.

The branches held in fate’s cruel hands,

Was proof of human sin;

They didn’t die from the cold without;

They died from THE COLD WITHIN.

Author – Unknown