Thurman P. Woodfork
Evil comes in many sizes,
Cloaks itself in myriad guises,
Pretends to offer a helping hand,
Says it always understands.
It isn’t just the scary fiend
Who visits in horrific dreams;
It also lives behind smiling faces
That slyly despise other races.
It’s at the table as the fortunate carve
Succulent roasts while others starve.
And, while patriotic fervor soars
It sends us off to needless wars…
Wars that fatten the carrion birds
When we’re gulled by heated words
Flowing from politicians’ throats,
That surround reason like fetid moats.
It makes us able to quietly ignore
The abuse taking place next door.
And, of course, I can always see
The faults in you, but never in me.
Can we always honestly claim
To know where to place the blame?
Sometimes evil begins to bloom
From seeds planted in this very room.
©Copyright June 3, 2006 by Thurman P. Woodfork
Submitted for the June 2006 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Evil”