Faces is a poem which is about what Sara Teasdale is seeing in the faces of people while walking through the city; She sees many people's faces that she does not recognize. The author says to herself that she will never remember them again and that she could see that they were sad and that made her unhappy. She knew that she also was sad and that she could not hide it.
The sadness in her can be seen effortlessly and makes her afraid that the people will see it. Someone looks at her right in the eyes, and she has a feeling that he knows what she is going through.
Using personification Teasdale describes the noises of the city as roaring, thus making it sound as if the city is angry at her. Another personification "Secrets rushing without sound / Crying from your hiding places" describes the sadness that she sees in people's faces.