Tilbake Tilbake: Depresjon



I knew a girl who liked to draw.

She drew pictures that nobody saw.

She was most artistic at night,

In her bathroom, out of sight.

She didn't tell a soul and her gallery grew.

Her drawings were different, no pencil or pen.

But needed a bandage now and again.

We stood bits there by the river under the stars.

She pulled up her sleeve and showed me her scars.

She was embarrassed and looked at her shoe.

i pulled up my sleeve and said

"I draw too"

Til forsiden