Haven’t you noticed that when you hate it kills?
Did you even stop to wonder what type of effect it has?
It’s a disaster
A disease
Craving your sick and twisted emotion
Balking at my indecisive decisions

Values, morals, opinions, and ideals are simple enough to understand really. They practically govern a person’s daily life on their own. There isn’t a single person in the world that doesn’t have moral, value or an ideal of some kind. Whether it is religious, racist, imaginative, wishful, or just plain dumb, someone somewhere has ones to live by, however, right, wrong, or indifferent they might be.

Searching ruthlessly for scum
Toiling for people
People just like you
I’m not saying it to be mean
Not to sound harsh

The wizarding world isn’t much different from the muggle world. They both have morals, values, ideals, and opinions, but sometimes these items clash with one another. Its things like this that provoke confusion and breed hatred. Add fear to it and you’ve got enough fuel to fire up the entire world, not to mention set it into a worldwide whirlwind.

But when you look in the mirror do you see what we do?
Do you see an angry fearful creature who is a supposed person of Christ?
Or do you see a young fulfilled person who is completely happy?
I look at you and I feel hate

The wizarding world is a melting pot of bloods. In only a day, a person can run into a half-blood, a muggle-born and a pure-blood, though you wouldn’t find a pure-blood in the same place as either a half or muggle-born, better known as Mudbloods, they’re not fit to breathe the same air as them. Certain pure-bloods will go to great heights just to escape contamination.

It sinks into my skin
It carries an aroma
Prejudices of all kinds
Racism, sexism, bigotry, religious distaste

One particular pure-blood would be… If you’re thinking Voldemort than you’re wrong, sorry dear but you’re not even close. No, that pureblood happens to be the child of the two most mismatched lovers in all wizarding history. That’s right, the particular pure-blood just so happens to be the son of Ron Weasley and Pansy Parkinson. Who would’ve guessed that a twelve year old boy could be so hateful?

Your every whim falls on their every downfall
It brings you up when it brings us down
Callow and cruel it tortures the strong
And belittles the weak
Haven’t you noticed that when you hate it kills?