Civil war has broken out in my mind,
However that’s not uncommon to find.
It is like there are two versions of me,
Always fighting, for they cannot agree.
Part of me sees only in black and white.
He cares only for rules, not for what’s right,
He is like a paragon of the law,
Which I’m sure you can see is a great flaw.
His counterpart is full of compassion,
Which he won’t ever willingly ration.
The one problem is he suffers from guilt,
Even if it’s only milk he has spilt.
I wish only for this fighting to end,
So that my mind will have a chance to mend.