So what’s the point of all of this?

All the hustle and bustle

All the hit and miss

What’s the point of all the talking?

All the walking, all the waiting?

 

We struggle and toil

Our tempers bubble and boil

Nerves are frayed

And enemies are made

Of those we used to call friends

So I ask, what’s the point of it all?

 

Filling our short lives

With hassle and hurry

Cramming into every second

Everything we can

Our minds

Our hands

Our hearts

All in a flurry

A twitch of motion

We build the commotion

 

And for what?

 

My life is in a mess

But I’m just like all the rest

Just another hungry magpie

On the hunt for something shiny.

Or maybe a dog

Fighting over scraps I’m tossed.