choices

They say you always have a choice 
and you do, on some parts. 
It is you when you are kind. 
It is you when you are cruel. 
You made yourself and this is you, 
no fate or predestiny crafting out a box to fit in. 

They say you always have a choice, 
but sometimes you don't. 
Sometimes, you can't leave. 
Sometimes, people die, unfinished, 
and they didn't choose that. 

It is hard, but it is right, they say, 
but the world isn't always fair enough to let us choose. 
Do better, 
but I'm doing my best, why isn't it enough? 

There is always a choice, they insist, 
and you want to ask, 
what choice did I have in this?