Life

What is life really?
The highs are like a dough,
Tough to knead, but easy to throw,
The lows are like a drought,
Taking longer to go than I thought.

Why can't we be comfortable on the fence?
This way we can forget and regret less,
Every decision we make is a nightmare,
For once why isn't life fair?

Why do we play on our luck when we gamble?
Wasn't it dumb luck that got us into this scramble?

Getting through the darkest nights isn't tough,
Unless you live in a moment in the past,
And relive it like a curse so rough.

Nothing is more lucrative or destructive than one's mind,
When you find yourself in it,
It will be treasures you mine,
Until then your instincts will keep the torches lit