Daniel Jaffke

Memorial for Daniel P. Jaffke, a son, brother, and friend.

Ode To A Hobo

Ode To A Hobo

I admit the more I give and try

My dreams wither from the cold
All the while my head in the sky
I should have been digging for gold

Pocket lint, a hole for my change

Won’t keep me under my roof
Yet I continue to lose this game
And dreams no longer assumed

“Get a job” they shout from miles away

All from the tops of their lungs
Meanwhile I stop, stare, and dare
The thought of rising above

I admit the more I give and take

Each day is harder than the last
By living moments to break away
And knowing I stink of trash