Optimism can be hard when you’re alone in the dark

When you’re at the lowest point in your story arc

You might try to find a window, but you’re surrounded by walls

So you stay awake at night, pacing the halls

You wish it could be fiction, you hope it’s all fake

But this is your life, and the choices you make

Your story’s written on thin lines with red ink

It’s about time you fixed yourself, don’t you think?

You can’t play healer to all these broken souls

You've got your own blocks and plot holes

So put down the silver and pick up the pen

Your story’s not over yet, it’s time to start again.