🧠 The Mind Of A Sociopath 🧠 Poem by James McLain

One plays at love like games of war,
Seeking the softest hearts to explore.
With eyes that pierce, yet do not feel,
One knows the art of wounds concealed.

In the darkness cast by shifting light,
One wears a new face, chameleon bright.
A mimic of emotions deep within,
And drift, unmoved by how you feel.

To charm and bind in their delight,
False kindness, power's veiled disguise;
Our secrets held for future spite—
A hollow laugh, a cold surprise.

For fleeting whims, they live each day,
Casting warmth like leaves, led astray.
To win, to conquer, such harm begins,
Unbound by love or loss within.