On Helping Humans - a poem

Human nature, what is human nature,
some deem it bad, some deem it good,
that there is one switch to another
that's it, no other course of action to take.

You witness it considerably more when tragedy
strikes that a majority can get behind, how able
hands give freely their work, or their time
to build, muse, give, to contemplate our collective
messes. We do it continually around our world,
each and every day.

We also see carnage sweep about and decimate,
we see awful around world and in our own backyards.
We pain to witness it, deviant actions, and ideas,
and what could muster a human being to damage
another human being.

Human nature is fickle, but it is not created in vacuum.
It is one part innate, one part learned, one part chemical,
but the terror of humanity is a learned terror,
it is not the basis of who we are. Somehow our most
basic instinct compels us to freely lend a hand,
to recognize the need, the hurt, the want in others
and reach out.

We do not always reach out, we sometimes see the sole
man on a street corner begging for scraps
and dismiss him as nuisance but more often
than not, when a need is apparent, people want to give.
They want to lend hands. As it concerns children,
who did nothing to warrant an inquiry to their
person, we tend to rush to aid of them, especially those
in our own backyard.