I knew a boy who liked to draw

He drew pictures that nobody saw

He was more artistic at night

Im the bathroom, out of sight

He kept a secret that nobody knew,

He didn't tell a soul and his gallery grew

His drawings were different, no paper or pen

But a needed bandage now and again.

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."