My depressing poems ❤

Poem 3

Poem 3:

I knew a boy who liked to draw,

He drew pictures 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 a soul and his gallery grew,

His drawings were different no paper or pen,

But he 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 felt embarrassed and looked down at his shoe

Then I rolled up my sleeves and whispered,

I draw too

Note: Hold on, your not alone.