Fault

They came to tell your faults to me,
They named them over one by one;
I laughed aloud when they were done,
I knew them all so well before,-
Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
Your faults had made me love you more.

Sara Teasdale The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.