If I were put on the spot and had to recite someone else’s poem, the only one that comes to mind quickly is one I read in a book from the 1800’s. I don’t know the name of the author. The poem can speak for itself.
Sin is a beast of such hideous mien
As to be hated needs but to be seen.
But seen too oft familiar its face
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.