The Wicked Man Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The Wicked Man

A bad man walks with words
untrue,
His eyes wink, his feet move
askew.
He points with a finger, a twist in his heart,
Always planning bad, tearing things apart.

Trouble will find him, fast and deep,
Till hi'll be crushed, secrets
to keep.

God hates six things, seven too,
A proud stare, a tongue
that's new to lies.
Hands that spill the pure and meek,
A heart that plots what's dark and weak.

Fast feet that run to do what is wrong,
A fake tongue singing a false untrue song.
And one who makes good friends fall out,
These things God hates,
beyond a doubt.