The Worth of a Soul
Location
Behind ev’ry face,
There is a room;
A room filled with
Tons of drawers.
Hidd’n in these drawers
Are bounteous things
The secrets of which
That person only knows.
There are dark secrets,
Black secrets,
Blue secrets, red,
The bright ones we all know are there.
The black ones are sins,
The dark ones mistakes,
The others, explained,
Take all day.
Whether the drawers
Holding these secrets
Are large, medium, or small,
It’s not ours to say,
Or compare good deeds with bad,
And judge their worth from that.
‘Cause don’t we all have
That room full of drawers?
And don’t we all know sorrow, too?