~Artistic~
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 a soul and his gallery crew,
His drawings were different,
No paper or pen,
But needed a bandage 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 shoe,
Then I rolled up my sleeves and whispered, "I draw to.
YOU ARE READING
Sadness Taking over
Poetry**Edit** This book is about 2 years old, I am in the works of going through it to make it better. It's full of all my sad poetry I used to write. Its rhyming poetry by the way. Read if you want and if you like it click that voting button. Love you g...
