HORSES BEHIND A CART

Back and forth.
The obituary of efforts.
How did we get here?
Futility with body so bare.

Endeavours disappear like fart...
still we willingly play out parts.
The loud whispers of shame.
A ridicule hard to tame.

Nothing seems to get better.
Frustration in capital letters.
Our labours languish in graves...
for a revival we ceaselessly crave.

Still, the nation divides.
In us, separation confides.
Unity helplessly bleeds...
discord sucks on with greed.

Discrimination drives on with passion.
The fervent flourishing of factions.
Things keep falling apart...
horses behind a redundant cart.