I knew a boy who liked to draw. He drew pictures nobody saw. He was most artistic at night, in his bathroom, out of sight. He didn't tell a soul, and his gallery grew. His drawing's were different, no pencil or pen. But needed a bandage every now and then. We stood by the river under the stars. He rolled up his sleeves and showed me his scars. He looked so embarrassed, and looked down at his shoes, So i rolled up my sleeves and said "I draw too"
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