The idea here is that someone learns in time not only that other people have needs, but that by giving of yourself, you learn that you find new life as well.
The only comfort left to give
Sitting
there in morning’s night
Warmed by a
coat of feigned projection
Man basks beneath
his self-made light
And reads
alone for self-protection
As noonday
nears light peeks its head
To penetrate
this blackest world
Allowing man
to peek outside
And find it
walked by other men
And suddenly
he feels alone
But again he
sits upon his throne
When evening
comes light’s pouring through
But still it’s
cold inside his home
And still he
wears his thickened coat
And still he
sits and reads alone
Then night
appears
A night that
calls
A night that
bleeds effusive light
Sunning men
outside in cold
Outside in
worthless, bitter cold
He peeks
outside to greater need
But turns
again to see his chair
To see his
chair that calls him there
And all the self-made
light and books
And all the
coats he wore before
And all the
walls that shield him from
The wind and
cold and rain and snow
Seem now to
him a worthless show
With
brightened view and opened door
He bades to
those who need the warmth
A child
comes first
But still he’s
cold
Despite the
warmth within that place
The only comfort left to give
Is the very
one he wants the most
Man turns to
child with fine intent
And gives to
him his favorite coat.
Both are warmed by truest light
Inside an opened, brightened home
No longer will his books befriend
No longer will he sit alone.
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