The Cold Within Poem
I’d like to talk about something a little different with this post, The Cold Within poem.
I first heard The Cold Within poem when I was in ninth grade, in a creative writing class I was taking at the time.
The words and the meaning behind The Cold Within poem have stuck with me ever since.
This was twenty-four years ago, and anytime I think about this poem and its meaning, it reminds me that everything is all about perspective.
With all the negativity going on in the world, and with people forgetting how to treat each other, I wanted to share some perspective.
I thought it would be a great time to remind everyone of The Cold Within Poem.
I’d like you all to read it, and think about what it means to you. I’d love for you to share your thoughts in the comments.
It’s amazing that after all these years, this poem is still a timeless example of how we unknowingly hurt ourselves (and each other) with our own ignorance.
We forget that working together can accomplish so much more than we realize!
With that being said, let me share with you this poem I’ll never forget. Please feel free to share it, it’s a powerful message for all of us.
The Cold Within
Six humans trapped by happenstance
In bleak 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 man held his back
For of the faces round the fire
He 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 the lazy shiftless poor.
The black man’s face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight.
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.
The last man of this forlorn group
Did nought except for gain.
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game.
Their logs held tight in death’s still hands
Was proof of human sin.
They didn’t die from the cold without
They died from the cold within.
~ James Patrick Kinney.
To learn more on the history of this poem, click HERE.
I hope you all enjoy it as much as I have.
If you like inspiring messages like this, check out my post on wall decor with unique quotes.
See you in the next post!