i was seven when my
grandfather passed on,
as i stood by his casket
in the ballpark of life
and death, the bases
were loaded-
my dad was my coach,
as my eyes filled
he came to the
batters box,
squeezed my hand and
without moving
his lips,
i got the signal
\'grown men don\'t cry\'-
i hit a home run on that
day, but when my
dad died i was on my
own and this was the
world series; the rain
fell in torrents, i didn\'t
win this game but i
became a better man~
~*~*~*~*~*~*