Listen Brother!

I am hungry
and you formed a humanities club
and discussed my hunger, thank you.

I was imprisoned
and you crept of quietly to your chapel
in the cellar and prayed for my release

I was naked
and in your mind you debated
the morality of my appearance

I was sick
and you knelt down
and thanked God for your health

I was homeless
and you preached to me of
the spiritual shelter of the love of God

I was loneland you left me alone to pray for me

You see so holy, so close to God
but I am still very hungry, and love and cold

so where have all your prayers gone?
What are they done?
To page through your book of prayer
When the rest of the world
Is crying for your help

Michel Quoist