ENGLISH POEM:
A cold Within ;
A cold Within ;
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 on the faces around the fire ,
She noticed one was black ,
The next man looking cross the way ,
Saw one was not 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 his log be put to use ,
to warm the idle rich?
The man just sat back
The rich man just sat -back and thought
of the wealth he had in store
And somehow 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 his chance to spite the white
The last man of this forlorn group,
did not expect -for gain ,
giving only to those who gave ,
was how he played the game ,
The logs held tight in deaths still hands ,
was the proof of human sin,
They didn't die from the cold without ,
They died from the cold within
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