Answer:
A word I know, six letters it contains. Subtract just one and twelve remains.
I can be moved. I can be rolled. But nothing will I hold. I'm red and I'm blue, and I can be other colors too. Having no head, though similar in shape. I have no eyes - yet move all over the place.
I am always hungry, I must always be fed. The finger I lick will soon turn red.
It holds no blessings in disguise. Its rhymes are aimed at your demise, it's cast only to ruin, Whatever you are doin'.
What goes around the world and stays in a corner?
What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?