A Blanket in Tatters

Everyone is pulling on the blanket in every direction
Everyone wants it to be in his possession
Putting up a ferocious fight to have it all to himself
To everyone what matters is his own self

In the end the good ample blanket is torn to pieces
It is now left in such sad meager tatters
In the end a tiny piece of blanket is all everyone has
And in the bitter cold such a rag is no use

The blanket gone, everyone is exposed to the cold
Wandering in a wilderness hostile and void 
And having wasted their energy fighting each other
Everyone is enslaved by the cold master

Everyone could have come together as a brotherly team
To make more blankets to keep everyone warm
Everyone could have been fighting the common enemy
The cold strife then would have been kept at bay