There once was a boy
And he had to paint
The golden child
He looked like a saint
But he wasn't as gold
As you thought he is
He paints with a blade
His body's the canvas
Slice once, slice twice
Slice even three times
The little boy died
Without committing a crime
His dad walked in
His mom did too
And soon they saw
What their son drew
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An incredibly sad tale. Unfortunately cutting as become the new addiction.