Two lines are all it takes here to capture a very familiar kind of exhaustion. The speaker asks how they are supposed to change, and the question sounds less like a request for advice than a cry of frustration. Every bit of progress seems to cost them far more than it gains: one step forward, and then three thousand back. The number is obviously an exaggeration, but that's the point. It shows how huge the setbacks feel from the inside, when effort seems to lead nowhere.
The mood is weary and discouraged, with a hint of desperation. The lowercase letters and the lack of any polish make the voice feel raw, like a thought blurted out in a low moment rather than carefully composed. The title, "Backwards Track," fits that sense of being stuck on a path that keeps running in reverse. There's no answer or comfort offered, so the poem leaves us sitting with the speaker's doubt, wondering whether change is even possible.