Poetry

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There's a part o' man, takes lots o' blame for many things we do;
We call it "human nature" when we break the Golden Rule.
An' when we speak a hateful word or tell a little lie;
That, too, is human nature, 'cause the Lord knows how WE try.

A feller hadn't been t' church in quite a little spell;
Ihe preacher, man o' interest, thought he surely wasn't well;
He dropped in for a visit, an' to hear the feller's woes;
Found a case o' human nature in his feet an' legs an' toes.

Another man had prospered, prob'ly more than he deserved,
But a tenth o' all his earnin's, for the Lord, had not reserved.
The treasurer an' some deacons happened by t' take a look;
Found a case o' human nature in the feller's pocketbook.


A man's got loads o' input into his destiny;
Much more than he'll admit at times, (that's human, naturally).
Now human nature's mighty fine, but hardly worth the cost
If it gets to be the reason that life's values we have lost.

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