Actually, this is a poem my father once showed me, a long time ago. It has been bastardized many times, in many ways, but this is the original: The Cold Within Six men trapped by happenstance, in bleak and bitter cold Each possessed a stick of wood, or so the story's told. Their dying fire in need of logs, the first man held his back For of the faces round the fire, he noticed one was black. One man looking cross the way, saw one not of his church And could not bring himself to givethe 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 useto warm the idle rich? The rich man just sat back and thoughtof the wealth he had in store And how to keep what he had earnedfrom the lazy, shiftless poor. The black man's face bespoke revengeas the fire passed from his sight, For all he saw in his stick of woodwas a chance to spite the white. And the last man of this forlorn groupdid naught except for gain, Giving only to those who gave, was how he played the game The logs held tight, in death's stillhands, was proof of human sin They didn't die from the cold without, they died from the cold within. .James Patrick Kinney
About This Quote
The cold within is a metaphor for a person's emotional state. The black man was angry, the third man was greedy, the white man was prideful, and the last man was selfish. Each person had a different outlook on how they would react to the situation and what they would do with the sticks of wood.
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