Painter of the Night

There once was a boy,

Who would paint in the night.

All over his arms,

And his thighs too.

He had to hide his art from the world,

Because they would think different

About his art style

Then he did.

I used to know this same boy,

Who would paint in the night.

And once he knew me well enough,

He showed me his art.

Thousands of paintings,

Covered his body.

But he was so shy,

To even show me.

I was shocked at first,

But not because of his art.

But because I finally realized,

He was no longer in the dark.

I lifted my sleeves,

And rolled up my pants.

Revealing thousands of drawings too.

We were one in the same.