Young Writers Society

Golden dust motes, In a glimmering cascade in the air, From the stained glass windows, The light spills down, white and pure. The marble pillars, Soaring off to the roof, ...

I can't help looking at you, but when you look at me I turn away. I feel so shy when I catch your eye, But I can't help looking at ...

Wow...I nearly cried reading this...I know I've said that good handful of times before concerning your work but seriously, this broke me down. First off, I'm sorry for everything that ...

okaaaaaaaay...sorry I shouldn't have posted at all I don't have any other comment but that.

Serendipity. All the random pieces coming together in one beautiful, enlightened moment. Did you used to believe, too? Serendipitous. Two random people coming together in one beautiful, foolish moment

It's very strange how I feel nothing for you anymore how I can touch you, taste you but not love you like before Even though I keep pushing you away, ...

Sorry, my updated version My name is Amy, It’s my birthday today I lie here unmoving No one cares anyway My face is beaten So bruised and black I lie ...

Darn, Brad...when did you start writing like this? Darkness is daylight–At leastloneliness isn’t prostitution–May God wrest me from sanity. *gets the shivers* Oh, how I loved it. You should writ

For you I will write a song and sing it, I love you, I admit it. You are a dream come true I could not have coped without you. These ...

Winter ice on your unsheathed knife frozen blood and frozen tears newly spilt, so young and brittle, against my shoulder you whispered lies where once hope rose in cold eyes, ...

"Love" paints a picture Of flowers and light, But to this strong emotion Is a darker side. Pain and confusion Contrast supreme bliss. So many lovers Are witness to this. ...

No extra words, no extra lines. Excellent descriptions, excellent prose.

With blue braids tipped foam-green and skin the shine of the sea she glides between the caps and waves. in a moment of sponteanity she leaps and flaps her sparkle-scaled ...

the never bird gave up her nest to save a boy so keen on single destruction death seemed like a very big adventure and Heathcliff plumetted into a life long ...

The past’s-elastic is fraying And I find that I’m guilty, When my crimes have a face That stares back in stanzas.