I knew a girl who liked to draw,
She drew pictures that nobody saw.
She was most artistic late at night,
In the bathroom, out of sight.
She kept a secret no one knew,
She didn't tell a soul and her gallery grew.
Her drawings were different, no paper or pen, 
But needed a bandage now and again.
We stood by the river under the stars,
She rolled up her sleeves and showed me her scars. 
She felt embarrassed and looked down at her shoe,
Then I rolled up my sleeves and whispered, "I draw too."