By Harold Buckles
You tell on yourself by the friends you seek,
By the very manner in which you speak.
You tell on yourself how you spend your time,
And the use you make of a dollar or dime.
You tell on yourself by what you wear,
By the spirit in which your burdens you bear.
You tell on yourself at what you laugh,
By the records you play on your phonograph.
You tell what you are by the way you walk,
By the things of which you like to talk.
It tells what you are how you take defeat,
And by a simple thing as to how you eat!
You mark yourself by the books on your shelf,
In a hundred ways YOU TELL ON YOURSELF.
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