I know a girl who liked to draw
She drew pictures that nobody saw
She was most artistic late at night
Inside the bathroom; out of sight
She kept a secret nobody 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
She stood in front of a mirror in the dark
Seeing every single line, every mark
Pitiful, she was crying tears of misery
Wait, isn't the girl in the mirror... me?
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 4:41 PM UTC
I know a girl who liked to draw
She drew pictures that nobody saw
She was most artistic late at night
Inside the bathroom; out of sight
She kept a secret nobody 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
She stood in front of a mirror in the dark
Seeing every single line, every mark
Pitiful, she was crying tears of misery
Wait, isn't the girl in the mirror... me?
