After I thought it through
the stigma felt abused
I cycled through the minds of others
exposing their consensus to my senses
for better or worse, I don't discriminate

I do, however, hate
without a second thought
suddenly, void of reason
in passing or in wait I would
indifferently abuse the scarred stature

what remained was waste
letting me think is a sin
there is no god who can forgive my mind
not that I condone the plundering of others
it's just that my father will never know.