A tear,
rolls down my cheek,
flows past my ear,
and drops on my paper,
each tear,
is a part of my soul,
every tear I shed,
drops on my ink,
Now I am empty and dead,
and my soul is,
in these very words you have read,
So save my soul,
keep it in a bowl,
protect it from the ghouls,
save your soul from this fear,
lock it in a bowl,
because it starts with a tear,
rolling down,
down past your ear.