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Click hereThey're apple-cheeked as any other
Child who would be born this day.
Is evil from father or mother,
Genetic? Or lives lead astray?
Somewhere as children, conscience fleeing,
They went way wrong as human beings.
As dictators, they're evil now
And, anyway, not sacred cow.
These pictures raise a nagging worry—
That inside me, in brain or genes,
Some evil lurks, and waits, and preens,
And will some day in violent fury
Erupt from me in shrieks and moans
To Bethlehem go slouching home.
Survivor Poetry Contest
Trigger 46, Poet's Choice (Onegin Stanza)