the voice of the ostrich

we seek for peace and all we get's a stone
the news that comes is horror and despair
the world just turns and doesn't ever care
out of the clay we see there juts a bone
of all the things for which we should atone
to single out this one does not seem fair
we look upon the people gone past spare
each of them in their private hell alone
the lies we hear aren't ones that let us rest
secure in our own comfort happy folk
far from the wars and lacking only breath
to claim that we are up to every test
on us will never rest the dastard yoke
and none of us could ever fall to death