There is always one more pound to be lost
Always one more note to be written
There is always one last,
Always one more last
Rock bottom is an illusion chosen
Truly its existence is only in death
Is that how far you would fall?

We have but seconds on this world
Yet hours still are wasted
We allow phantoms to linger
Instead of burning and dissolving
The tears they cause, the memories they leave
Vicious circles are created
Despite the colorful lines that are begging for attention
Is that what legacy you would leave?

The weather is often too warm, too cold
Perfect even has its flaws
Yet is there any flaw in rain
That we should choose to judge
Imperfection is relative
Lovely only goes so far,
If chosen to allow it
Beauty lines your mind,
Your soul
Those around you see, and choose as well
Choose for hurt, or love,
Light, or darkness
What choice is that what you would make?