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