You spend your entire life voting
Every cycle is existential and harrowing
Even the cycles when your tribe's leaders are in power
But especially when they aren't
Nothing fundamental ever changes
Laying on your deathbed at 83
As society inexorably decays
You strain to raise your arm
To tick a box on the floating screen projected in front of you
In a hoarse voice you declare
"This time, things will finally change..."
You die
They don't