I knew a boy who liked to draw,
He drew pictures that nobody saw,
He was most artistic late at night,
In the bathroom late at night,
He kept a secret nobody knew,
He didn't tell a soul and his gallery grew,
His drawing were different,
No paper or pen,
But he needed a band aid now and again,
We stood by the river under the stars,
He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his scars,
He felt embarrassed and looked down at his shoes,
Then I rolled up my sleeve and whispered, "I draw too".
