He Died for Friends
Tribute to Dan Worobel by
Fr. Russ Carmichael olb. OSB
In a tent out of sight.
Fear of friends?
Fear of night.
Fragile, caring
I suffer my plight.
Society
Does not
Care for me.
So I’m
In a tent out of sight.
Death!
He came
Knocking
At my door.
In a stupor
I went outside.
No place to run. No place to hide.
My leg’s so sore
I could not even try.
All my friends are dunk in a stupor.
In their tents out of sight.
We are societies lost and broken.
No one cares not even I.
We live in tents
So we can hide.
How much we hurt
For the pain we caused
How much we suffer
Un-able to repent.
No boot straps to pull up by.
No money to pay the rent.
So we stay
In a tent out of sight.
Suffering the cold and rainy nights.
Sharing a bottle to ease the pain.
That guy on drugs what a shame.
The engineer he may get a job.
For me.
My name is Danny
I’m paying the freight.
Death!
He has taking me this night.
Promising,
The money will come.
To open the doors
Of the homeless shelter.
A month early this year.
Due to my demise.
The price to cross
The river Styx
So my friends
Won’t have to spend
Another winter night
This year
In tents out of sight.
Supportive housing
Was to be my cause.
Kicking of the ten year plan.
I have to wonder.
As Death takes me.
In six months
Will they remember
My name?
It’s
Danny Worobel.
I was living
Homeless.
In a tent out of sight.
