The Point
Dave Oakes
Like a wonderful little rabbit
Hopping aimlessly around the field
Zigging and zagging every which way
Never quite bright enough to yield.
The point must be hidden somewhere
Because it is nowhere to be found
It looks awfully good to me from here
But is it truly and really sound.
How is that so many fail to get
What to so many is plain to see
Why have they turned to prisons
Instead of wishing to be free.
Maybe there really is no point
Just a trail for you to follow
To see how far you can stretch yourself
A chance to avoid being hollow.
Well if you ever see my point
Would you kindly let me know
I realize how often they can offend
And I wouldn’t want one to show.
