I Met A Boy

I met a boy who liked to draw,

But he wasn't like other artists,

His skin was his canvas,

And his paintbrush;

A blade.


He hid his drawings,

Underneath bracelets and sweaters,

Long pants and a bright smile.


I lost my bracelet one day,

And he lifted up his sleeve and said,

"I draw too."

This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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