I knew a boy who liked to draw.
He drew pictures nobody saw.
He usually draws them late at night,
in the bathroom out of sight.
His drawings were different,
no paper or pen.
But needed a bandage now and again.
We stood by the river under the stars,
he pulled up his sleeves and showed me his scars.
He was embarrassed and looked down and his shoes.
So I pulled up my sleeves and said," I draw too."
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryHello there, I don't know who you are. But please don't be sad when you read these poems. I love you.
