He stands at the plate with heart pounding fast. The bases are loaded; the die has been cast.

Mom and Dad cannot help him, he stands all alone. A hit at this moment would send the team home

The ball meets the plate; he swings and he misses There's a groan from the crowd; with some boos and some hisses

A thoughtless voice cries: 'Strike out the bum.' Tears fill his eyes; the games no longer fun.

So open your heart and give him a break. For it's moments like this, a man you can make.

Keep this in mind when you hear someone forget. He's a just a little boy and not a man yet