He was the fair-haired child of destiny,
Expressing with his bat what we were not.
He was Apollo as humanity,
The image made us an adoring lot.
We viewed our hero through the haze of hype,
His struggles with life mattered not at all.
We looked past reality to love the life
As myth, we wanted heroes standing tall.
Time winds its way deflecting magic dreams,
Too late we sought the wisdom we can know,
Wasted we our youth, we are mere gleams.
We felt the sunrise warmth, it gave no glow.
We searched for heroes that we could admire,
As icons, never did they light the fire.