The Declaration Of Inspiration Poem by John F. McCullagh

The day was dry and hot,
with not a breath of air.
His uniform was loosely fit,
The pinstripes, number 4.
Lou Gehrig was the 'Iron Horse'
but an iron horse no more.

ALS had robbed him of his strength,
and now moved in for the kill.
Most thought, at first, he would not speak.
That he didn't have the skill.
But all there remembered what he said
And I think I always will.

He considered himself 'the Luckiest man'
Despite the' bad break' he got.
An immigrant's son who hit it big
and shined in the spotlight.

Lou passed away within two years.
The Stadium, too, is gone.
We're not the Country we were then
America has moved on.

But on this Independence Day
I'll stand where Gehrig stood.
There used to be a ballpark here
and a hero kind and good.