The Cross-Roads

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Once more I write a line to you,
  While darker shadows fall;
Dear friends of mine who have been true,
  And steadfast through it all.
If I have written bitter rhymes,
  With many lines that halt,
And if I have been false at times
  It was not all my fault.

To Heaven’s decree I would not bow,
  And I sank very low—
The bitter things are written now,
  And we must let them go.
But I feel softened as I write;
  The better spirit springs,
And I am very sad to-night
  Because of many things.

The friendships that I have abused,
  The trust I did betray,
The talents that I have misused,
  The gifts I threw away.
The things that did me little good,
  And—well my cheeks might burn—
The kindly letters that I should
  Have answered by return.

But you might deem them answered now,
  And answered from my heart;
And injured friends will understand
  ’Tis I who feel the smart.
But I have done with barren strife
  And dark imaginings,
And in my future work and life
  Will seek the better things.

© Henry Lawson