Whatever

Trying to stand out amongst the many
Like tiny raindrops tapping against the windowpane
All look and sound the same
Not one separate by face or name

The time is short, as we all shall see
The sun shall rise
Then nighttime falls
The days pass like the turning of a page

Masses of humanity moving to and fro
Heading no where but to their final day
Unoticed in death as in life
What was the point

A life full of too many mundane Mondays
A mind too full of worry, lost in thoughts
Of what lives still in the past
Thus we pass through our life

Again I ask, what is the point