He died for friends
Poem That Gives You Goosebump
Censored
I would love a dull moment

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 Iím

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 legís 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

 Iím 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

 Wonít 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?

 

Itís

Danny Worobel.

I was living

 Homeless.

In a tent out of sight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HOME

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your brown eyes flash
The other side of Love
Warrior Parents
Williwaw's Prayer