The Cold Within...

[ImMACnificent]

'The Cold Within'

Six humans trapped by happenstance
In dark and bitter cold
Each possessed a stick of wood--
Or so the story's told.

Their dying fire in need of logs,
But the first one held hers back,
For, of the faces around the fire,
She noticed one was black.

The next one looked cross the way
Saw one not of his church,
And could not 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 wealth he had in store,
And keeping all that he had earned
From the lazy, shiftless poor.

The black man's face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight,
For he saw in his stick of wood
A chance to spite the white.

And the last man of this forlorn group
Did nought except for gain,
Giving just to those who gave
Was how he played the game,

Their sticks held tight in death's stilled hands
Was proof enough of sin;
They did not die from cold without--
They died from cold within.

-Anonymous





We did this in the group I faciliate tonight. I
thought it had a great impact in the group.
We then had everyone "add their log" to the fire by sharing
a personal story with the group to "keep the fire going".

So, guys, Share a story...and add a log to the fire.

 

[kaliraksha]

Might I inquire what kind of story we are suppose to share?

I like the poem. I took a sociology class last semester and it really screwed with my views since I'm a psychology major... it was very interesting in a good way.

 

[ImMACnificent]

Quote:

Originally Posted by kaliraksha Might I inquire what kind of story we are suppose to share? I like the poem. I took a sociology class last semester and it really screwed with my views since I'm a psychology major... it was very interesting in a good way.

The way I heard to do it was share any story. Well I work as a counselor in alcohol/drug, so my clients were to share a story of their addiction.

I just figured ANY personal story would do, here

Like "I had a sister that passed when I was younger" or "I never knew my mother", Just some intimate stories to kinda get to know each other since this is "deep thoughts"

 

[Mabelle]

My mom had a problem with drug addiction when i was little. I was too young to know what exactly was going on, but i knew things weren't right. BEcause of it she did a lot of stupid things, borrowing money etc. She cleaned herself up and quit cold turkey, but still had money problems. She and my dad (who is EXTREMELY fiscally resppnsible) used to fight all the time. She was the one in the wrong, but his reaction was to always scream and throw things. Throughout most of my childhood i was terrified of my dad because of this. I always thought there was this monster inside him. I'm really sad that i was so scared of him. HE didnt handle things well, but he was trying. He was a victim of abuse, so i suppose he learned to react in a big loud aggressive way. My parents were always very honest with me about their drug problem and money issues. I respect that. a lot.

Last summer my parents were arguing again. I litterally sit in between them at dinner. They started screaming at each other, and out of angery (my mom was being a HUGE bitch and egging him on) my dad threaten to hit to. I completly lost my shit. I was flipping shit. Screaming and smashing dishes. It;s like i wasnt in my own body. Like i was some violent storm moving around the room... That was one of the scariest moments i can remeber. I never thought i was capable of evrything i did that afternoon. I was literally in shock for days afterwards.



thats my story.

 

[ImMACnificent]

Quote:

Originally Posted by Mabelle My mom had a problem with drug addiction when i was little. I was too young to know what exactly was going on, but i knew things weren't right. BEcause of it she did a lot of stupid things, borrowing money etc. She cleaned herself up and quit cold turkey, but still had money problems. She and my dad (who is EXTREMELY fiscally resppnsible) used to fight all the time. She was the one in the wrong, but his reaction was to always scream and throw things. Throughout most of my childhood i was terrified of my dad because of this. I always thought there was this monster inside him. I'm really sad that i was so scared of him. HE didnt handle things well, but he was trying. He was a victim of abuse, so i suppose he learned to react in a big loud aggressive way. My parents were always very honest with me about their drug problem and money issues. I respect that. a lot. Last summer my parents were arguing again. I litterally sit in between them at dinner. They started screaming at each other, and out of angery (my mom was being a HUGE bitch and egging him on) my dad threaten to hit to. I completly lost my shit. I was flipping shit. Screaming and smashing dishes. It;s like i wasnt in my own body. Like i was some violent storm moving around the room... That was one of the scariest moments i can remeber. I never thought i was capable of evrything i did that afternoon. I was literally in shock for days afterwards. thats my story.

Thank you for sharing that.
My dad is also an addict, more severe when I was younger. I have stories similar to this.

Thank you again.