Won the game, made my name
Fifteen minutes' worth of fame
Then it came, all the pain
Is it over? What a shame...

Too tough, too rough, on my rotator cuff 
Low weight, rehab, I've had enough...

Take me back to my dreams
Before the sun set on me 
When the crowd went wild!
Now they call my name
All my pride has turned to shame!

(They can't see me in this state...)

One slip, too late,
Three strikes, for me
I've always been the one you could count on
So who will take my place, now I'm gone...

CONTEXT: I've been comparing the meter of One Slip Too Late to one of my recent writings, A Poem of Marzinory. They aren't that similar, but they relate around some parts.