I often think of life's dark days Whose shades were mostly blue, Of insults heaped upon my head While I was fighting through, Of dearest friends, then proven false, Whom I had thought were true, Of ideals shattered, masks removed, And sores exposed to view. Who was mistaken mattered not— 'Twas up to me to do, And just how well the task was done, My friends, I leave to you. And while I do not favors ask, In thought I oft review The battle that I fought those days When the Great War was through. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INVERSNAID by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE WARNING by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO A COMMON PROSTITUTE by WALT WHITMAN THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE BOTTOM DRAWER by MARY A. BARR LYNTON VERSES: 1 by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |