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I knew a boy who liked to draw..

He drew pictures that nobody saw..

He was most artistic late at night..

Behind the bathroom door, out of sight..

He held a secret that nobody knew..

Told no living soul that his gallery grew..

His drawings were unique no paper nor pen..

But sometimes a bandage like now again..

We stood by a river, right under the stars..

He rolled up his sleeves, he showed me his scars..

He felt embarrassed and looked to his shoe..

I rolled up my sleeve and said "I have drawn too."

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From the perfect book(?) 'Maybe I'm Insane' by @kaylerrrNicole

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