I knew a boy, who liked to draw.
He drew pictures that nobody saw.
He was most artistic, late at night,
In the bathroom, out of sight.
He kept a secret, no one knew.
And each night, his gallery grew.
His drawings were different,
No paper or pen,
But needed a bandage, every now and then.
We stood by the river, under the stars.
He roles up his sleeve and showed me his scars.
He felt embarrassed, and looked down at his shoe.
Then I rolled up my sleeve and said "I draw too."
YOU ARE READING
Suicide quotes.
RandomSuicide is never the answer. Suicide is a question, and the answer is no.