** changing type **
These days are come to haunt us
Fate fickle taunt us
Best plans are swept away
A changing type of day
All efforts to manage well
Cannot the conclusion foretell
As every action generates
Failures many demonstrates
People are not where should be
And those who are need not be
There is confusion in the ranks
Overworked leaders gaining no thanks
The removal of society's order
Collapse of known borders
We are on anarchy's brink
Need less impulse more think
This is how civilisations ceases
With mobs and tax decreases
Dreams put on hold at the Cape
Explosive rise in an outpouring of hate
No one cares if for other provided
If once a village unified are now divided
Together strong once we stood
Now our decadent civilisation acknowledges no good.
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