Nature Of Man Poem by Boston Kelley

The nature of man is but a fickle thing;
an endless mystery never meant to be solved.
Many faces and personalities does he possess;
ownership of numberless thoughts he is given;
control over an infinitude of feelings does he have.
A different man walks this earth, no man will ever
be like him; his own uniqueness gives him a place
for he should aspire to be his own self.
An ignorant babe he is born as; here, he rests at
his most innocent state.
Advantageous is it that he does not know the destruction
of evil, yet the wonders of virtue have not touched him.
If he is but unknowledgeable, how he is a sinful
creature? Who would accuse him of evil?
His innocence he should treasure most; a life of virtue
should he aspire to.
The filth of this world he has not yet known; his later
years shall test his resolve.
See how this world corrupts each soul, steering them
away from the values of virtue; dreadful it is that he is
born at all!
Knowledge of good he should be raised with for knowing
evil incites temptations within him.
His very nature remains innocent; he would do well
to guard it.