There was a boy who liked to draw,
He drew pictures that nobody saw,
He was most artistic at night,
In the bathroom out of sight,
He kept a secret no one knew,
He didn’t tell a soul as his gallery grew,
His drawings were different, no paper no pen,
But needed a bandage now and then.
We stood by the river under the stars,
He rolled up his sleeves and showed me his scars,
He felt embarrassed and looked down at his shoe,
Then I rolled up my sleeves and whispered “I draw too”.