Young Writers Society

This is a little poem I had to do in my Language Arts class. I hope you like. Times of sorrow Feeling hollow Many follow Times of sorrow A young ...

Jane Doe #21532323 lies naked on the table before us. Her eyes are closed, the coroner explains, because they will always be the exact shade of someone we know. A ...

Keep a distance don't get too attached, That is a rule for living. No matter where you all go Everyone will just end up hurt. Don't waste your life relying ...

Well today was a rainy day Today The sky was gray The thunder came. The lighting struck again and again And it rained and rained and rained. Just this rain ...

The night it falls so silently sometimes I find myself caught by surprise. I will wake up from my slumber To my sheets all tangled up with my arms and ...

Life is like a path you walk down to get home Sometimes you walk with others Sometimes you walk alone Holding a head high will show your very proud even ...

The effervescence of my beer escapes my lips as my mouth parts and my eyes close It's as if the walls of the room conform to the shape of your ...

p.s. R-heehee What blasphemy is this- that rattles the earth's core the dogs howl, and cats meow as buildings shake and roar Who had the bright idea to make the ...

I liked the last stanza, but that was about it. I never understand your poetry anymore...I used to fanatically love it. But your style and writing has changed a lot, ...

here I am standing at your doorstep waiting for you wishing that the rose in my hand hadn’t died pedal by pedal each one falls to the ground as if ...

I always hated that cold, dead doll, The one with the straight-through stare, The one who sat aloft and watched, The one who couldn't care. She knows every sharp-edged secret, ...

you gave me nightmares about those emerald eyes: submerged in saturday-night delights, singing songs I never wanted to hear, filthy with the thought of seduction. in the crush of the ...

I liked this. I couldn't anticipate where it was going, but I felt guided along the way. Even with changes in time and place, your voice remains consistent. The canvas ...

If the chainsaw in my head cut through the night Could you sleep through it? Or would you wake discontented? If I showed you my truth, Could you accept it? ...

This feels like the same as your other recent poem, "Living Alone With Green Carpet" ... same subject matter? Anyway, I thought this fitted very well neatly together. You seemed ...