Riddled With Guilt

Tell me something...
Was it before or after you were conceived,
Are you accusing me of plagiarizing...
Your precious inner thoughts?
That you now wish to bring this to my attention.

Or was it after you discovered my own already existed,
Long before you could express words from your lips.

Did you assume I fathered your ambitions?
And you want me to feel riddled with guilt?
Well...
I will admit,
I do have desires to satisfy a wandering idealism.