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I knew a boy who liked to draw He drew picture that nobody saw He was most artistic late at night In the bathroom out of sight He kept a secret that know one knew He didnt tell a soul as his gallery grew His drawings were different; no paper or pen But he needed a bandage now and again We stood by the river under the stars As he rolled his sleeves and showed me his scars He was embarrassed and looked down at his shoe Then i rolled up my sleeves and whispered 'I draw to'
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This is really good :) I like it
thanks... i found this in my journal a while back
Do you have more like this?
i do actually.. would you like some?
yes i would :)
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Sure :)
wow this is amazing! very well written and deep
thanks:D
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