They leave their homes Unwillingly forced And follow their fate Through fields and trails Massifs and woods With all their goods Love and hate Mores and tales All in bales Carrying their own flesh and bones Feet like stones Their bodies and souls Kids and crones Torn by storms, Rains and gales Attacked by guns, Helis and drones No role to play In games of peace And deadly war Not a word they say But a question, Why? What for? While we yawn Sitting at ease In our climes They leave their homes And reside in camps Strive for a living Internally displaced and dead Beg for a drop of water And a piece of bread!