mud

So-you throw another slab of mud,
and wait for it to fall.
Percentages will have it land.
Percentages will have it fall.
And in the end, nobody cares.
The truth lies somewhere in-between.
Obscured and distracted.
Stripped low and patronised.
A ridiculous figure,
settled in the rubble
of a long-forgotten century.
I fall,
you fall,
we all fall-down.