Sometimes one may think, that there’s no point.
The end will come, and we’ll be thankful.
Some, greet the end with open arms.
Others, hide, behind religion, faith,
Meaning, or inspiration.

We try to sing, but with no song.
Dance, but with no music.
Tell a story, but with no plot.
Laugh, but with no joke.
We try to make a point,
Even when there is none.

With the troubles and the issues, the cuts and the burns,
One can only ask, is it worth it?
Would your pain minimize, even just for a moment?
Would the happiness, fill the void?
Would a point, Make it better?

We try to listen, but with no sound.
Dream, but with no sleep.
Breath, but with no air.
Eat, but with no hunger.
We try to make a point,
Even when there is none.

Otherwise, we feel empty.
A dark hole. A blank sheet.
An open space. A vacant room.
Nothing at all-

No one gives you the point.
No one gives you the prize.
You’re not running a race.
You’re not fighting a war.

You’re living, but without a life.
Without a point.
Unless,
You choose to make one.