by February 17, 2012 0 comments

They kept it a major secret like buried
Cuban missiles or the true value of gold,
Never told us that you were just like us.

Even when they paraded you in pinstripes
Or gave you some lucky number
Or put your portrait on a box of bran flakes,

You were every boy’s hero
We didn’t care about the smoking, the
Drinking, or your father’s image

Or your illness that ran in the family,
Or cared how you neglected your children and wife
Or knew why you ran so well,

Because you were a legend, our hero
And idols make perfect statues
Like yours they placed in center field.

editors note:

Nasty secrets topple our icons. Everyday life is theirs as it is ours? Scandalous! Now, turn to your idol in the mirror. Any secrets there? – mh

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