The Evil Eight
Now folks—let’s sit down and face the truth,
There’s eight bad habits that’ll steal your youth.
They live in the mind and talk real sweet,
But they’ll drag your soul right off its feet.
First comes Denial, wears a crown of lies,
Says, “Ain’t my fault” while your conscience dies.
Then Blame, his brother, points all around,
He never looks down at his own ground.
Anger rides shotgun, loud and proud,
Breaks every heart that dares speak out loud.
Fear lurks silent, dressed in gray,
He steals your dreams before you pray.
Then Excuse, slick as oil and thin,
Tells you losing’s fine, you almost win.
Jealousy slinks with a serpent’s grin,
Turns friends to foes, blood to sin.
Self-Pity wails in a corner dark,
Snuffs your spark before you start.
And Pride, that last one, smiles so wide—
He builds your coffin from the inside.
Now, you can’t fix what you won’t admit,
You can’t heal if you won’t commit.
Face these eight, and take your stand—
Or the Evil Eight will take your hand.
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