I knew a boy who liked to draw
He drew pictures that nobody 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 soul, and his gallery grew
His drawings were different
No paper or pen
Though he needed a bandage now and again
He stood by the river under the stars
Rolled up his sleeves and showed me his scars
He looked embarrassed
And looked down at his shoe
I rolled up my sleeves and whispered:
"I draw too"
YOU ARE READING
The dark abyss that is my mind: part one
PoetryDo you know that feeling? Nothing matters, nobody cares, life has no meaning. That feeling that you want to just give up? That all you do is use up space and annoy people? That everybody is better off without you? That's me everyday. Every single da...
