This poem is an exercise in frustration. You try to elect the right people to do the right things for the country, but who is the right person for the job. You can't ask them, they lie. You don't have time or resources to do background checks on all the choices. Democracy is difficult if not impossible to get right but all the alternatives are at least as wrong. Why should the people in charge be able to shake the world enough that babies aren't able to get formula to survive in a first-world country?