Young Writers Society

The sun gently sets Another day has almost past. Have somehow got through, yet i still feel lost Holding on to the little bit of hope i have left Still ...

The frog jumped over the moon.

I - XIII when we were young we loved everyone in those days we followed the latest craze sugar was the catalyst for our behaviour; meaningful was just a word ...

FUCK YOU APATHY Fuck you, television watcher Isolation, the-world-doesn't-touch-you-liar. Artificial adult, hugging America, Western Civilization, hell, soon a pension, knowing that danger is going to

be patient don't rush, take it slow let the wind blow. feel the breeze through your hair, just feel it know one cares. to many things to rush not enough ...

This poem is aimed at younger children, and may also be a song...any comments? I wish of wishes, of wishes themselves. Of horses and turtles, lions and elves. Of trees ...

Mist and rain, May bring pain Thunder and lightning May be frightening, Sleet and frost Is when i'll feel lost, But when your here The sun is near. I'm not ...

lie irreversibly as distant fallen fences against white winter, as though the angle of repose is the imperative lesson, there has never I love that line... Wow...this poem is great...just ...

I wrote this, wanted to know if it was any good, hope you like it. It takes place in a land of poverty, A beautiful place, Beaches without water, Children ...

I am just a person walking by, Do i tell the truth or just plain lies? You have no idea what I've heard and seen You have no idea of ...

My Idol Why can't i be strong like you? I look up to everything you do, The fears you fought The morals you taught The difference you've made The rules ...

Smile My eyes ache when they watch your face, refusing to smile, smile like you did a long time ago in the bright light of the sun you sparkled, a ...

I can't remember if I posted this or not...and if I did, just tell me and I'll delete it. Strong critiquing--PLEASE. you speak paradoxical phenomenons and your heart is an ...

I watch you twist old newspapers, clip twigs, unroll vines, pile them into a shape that will burn,The way you worded this a little confusing. Perhaps instead: "I watch you ...

*snaps fingers* Finally, a poem with rhyme and meter and not a senseless rant! That's what I call poetry. Mostly because the other kind I can just shoot out of ...