Sad Poems

This Boy

I knew this boy who liked to draw
He drew pictures that no body saw
He was most artistic late at night
In the bathroom, out of sight
He kept a secret no one knew
He didn't tell a soul, and his gallery grew
His drawings were different, no paper or pen
But need a bandage every 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 shoes
Then I rolled up my sleeves and whispered "I draw too"