Author J. A. Pott You daub your face and think I shall not see Your wrinkles. You deceive yourself, not me. A small defect is nothing when revealed; But greater seems the blemish ill concealed. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments