The Babe Bows Out 06-13-1948 Poem by John F. McCullagh

The stands are full of cheering fans
As I wait to say goodbye.
My bat serves as a crutch for me
just weeks before I’ll die.

This day in June is cold and gray,
windy, overcast and bitter.
No warmth touches my wasted frame,
I’m a mere shadow of a hitter

The grandstands are abuzz with life
I shed a single tear.
I always was a man apart,
Larger than life, I hear.

My lusts and appetites were great-
more than a mortal man’s-.
but the syllogisms true
And that is all I am.

They do not know, they cannot know
about my hopes and fears.
They see just the fading icon
Of their own glory years.