Four total strangers gathered,
on that cold and dreary night.
Forced by simple circumstance,
around a dying fire of light.

Each held a log per chance
to put and keep the fire aglow.
But all, kept it to themselves
none did in the fire, a log throw.

One, because of great distrust
held on to his log as a weapon.
Another, with plain old greed
waited for any gain, to grab on.

Feeling inferior was the third,
he felt his log was not that good.
The last one, to himself said -
“Mine’s too good for this brood.”

So in the cold, they all sat -
each one huddled to himself still.
Until morn came, all of them dead.
Truth is, that cold within can kill.

maria stanphill (yldara) 150806/2006