Evil Poem by Enriquito Lucero Jr.
Evil
A stranger handed
A piece not stranded
For long at one's hand.
A many chased it
Every one held it
Not long at one's hand.
It travels as means
A treasure that reigns
Yet freed by one's hand.
You have it with you
From there you will know
Evil? From your hand.
- June 27,2006
* The root of all evil as they say, is 'Money' yet from our hand we have the choices... Evil?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 6:17:27 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
