Young Writers Society

To the weak it's the End. Are you breathing? Then it's not over yet. You're still alive It may hurt like a bitch But you're still breathing right? You're not ...

I’m insane, clown-painted prowler, half an hour from the genius on the table. Indeed you are Brad... nice job. It reminds me of te anime series that just ended after ...

Time has passed and I have healed, So don't think I still feel for you. The tide’s gone out and I've not drowned, So don't think I still bleed for ...

jetlag poetry touche (exit) I keep this gun in the bible you gave me it chases my demons down deep alleyways ending in surreal gun fights that always feature a ...

Yes, because it's called perception. Am I right? Am I right!? And, for lack of feedback, I end with that.

hey guys, I´m in Salamanca, Spain right now. Sitting in an internet cafe at a comp with a crappy keyboard with missing tilethingies. jetlag poetry the onset of a jetlag ...

It all changed the night you cut your hair, when you opened a portal to make-up and low-cut designer tops. Crossing your legs, hands in pockets, newfangled music. It gave ...

There is this highschool class called Creative Expressions. If I think about it, you can read this, just the way they do. It has such this wonderful flow and your ...

(I want critiques badly, I want to be proud of this... I love this) She lay in a broken mirror Her reflection surrounding her, Her beauty frozen by death, Cast ...

I get the feeling that there was some meaning here that I just couldn't grasp. But even though I have no idea what the poem means, it was very beautiful ...

the time spent has grasped attention, so only now it's noticed that the light is a shade of blue [and, you know, that means you've been going about too long]. ...

Rain comes harder as Night grows older Laughter is softer as Tears come closer I'm not to leave the circle You drew around me in the sand Laughter is softer ...

gliding along a two-lane highway at 95 miles per hour you speed over lime green lakes and wash past silvery skies and the "Don't mess with Texas" postcard sits in ...

NOTE: I wrote this poem in less than 1 minute. I just started thinking and writing...I've never done that before. Heh, record breaking. Anyway, this si what I came up ...

Old Mad Tom laughs when little boys burn to death and four-leaf clovers give him heart-ache. his brother's name was Edgar; a little boy who burned to death east of ...