What is the point of rules, if they’re meant to be broken?
What is the point of words, if most are left unspoken?
What is the point of wealth, if all one does is suffer?
What is the point of love, if there’s always another?
What’s the point of snow, if it melts away?
What’s the point of peace, if it only lives for a day?
What’s the point of a heart, if it stops beating?
What’s the point of a soul, if it stops feeling?
What’s the point of flying, if one must come down?
What’s the point of speaking, if no one hears a sound?
What is the point of a painting, if it doesn’t come alive?
What’s the point of living, if you don’t listen to what goes on inside?
What’s the point of time, if we don’t use it how we could?
What’s the point of being, if we don’t live like we should?
Better yet, what’s the point of this rhyme?
If you don’t know, I won’t waste anymore of your time