how true it is.

-----Original Message-----
From: Trisha Cummings [mailto:[log in to unmask]]
Sent: Monday, October 25, 1999 11:39 AM
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: The Fire


Greetings

    Here is a sad but true poem about people.

                             Brightest Blessings
                                 Trisha

~~The Fire~

Six People Trapped By Happenstance
In Damp And Bitter Cold,
Each One Possessed A Stick Of Wood
Or So The Storie'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 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 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 Going To The Poor.

The Black Man's Face Only Spoke Revenge,
As The Fire Passed From His Site.
For All He Saw In His Stick Of Wood,
Was A Chance To Spite The White.

The Last Man Of This Forlorn Group,
Did Not..Except For Gain.
Giving Only To The Ones That Gave,
Was How He Played The Game.

The Logs Held Tight In Death Still Hands,
Was Proof Of Human Sin.
They Didn't Die From The Cold Outside,
They Died From The Cold Within.