Young Writers Society

Mmm.. I like this. A lot. It's so true.. You've been able to capture what I haven't: the real feelings behind teenagers without using cliches. I keep reading this over ...

you are a lovesaint bless my soul with divine influence or stab it with crossed knives my fate is out of my hands. raise the red hot poker like some ...

it's grey, peppery coughs hacking through the fleshy night. my hot, white light pierces my eyes and licks the pink wall. i crave pills but vitamin c tablets will do. ...

Wow. This poem really didn't seem like you. Don't ask if that's good or bad because you know me...and I don't know. Heh, nice long titles...I'm gonna do that sometimes! ...

glittering pink flower earrings, auburn plaits heated by the sun, café mascara hanging off long lashes are not enough to satisfy the serpent in me. i need holes in my ...

Hm. I got it and I liked up until this part! Agh! "Don’t wave those white flag just yet don’t let it get so out of hand that I can’t ...

i woke up with you in my arms with a smile as wide as you on my face. do you remember when i won you when the stars were red ...

***i suppose it's sort of a story in a poem in a story in a poem*** frilled dresses look so pretty against skinny white legs twirling happily on sparkling marble ...

As I wait here Waiting for someone to come back And tell me that I’m loved That I’m still alive That I’m forgiven I still don’t know What yesterday will ...

In the darkest time of twenty-four hours, His name is carved in a cement wall. Sweaty palms with visible calluses Grasp a pocketknife and start to chisel Wrapping his arms ...

She went on a journey of self discovery, Hiding herself from all those she knew, Afraid of what she’d find She left behind the only comfort of life. To know ...

****i figured i'd stick a rating on this baby, since it's about drugs, but it doesn't have any language or whatnot.**** there is something so soothing about rolling joints on ...

when I see you like this I want to force feed you pink ice cream until you vomit. without your knee high boots and sparkly shirt that proclaims you 'bitch ...

i hide my eyes behind thin strips of dried-out hair that filter the world yet they're the only crystals on my dull grey image that glitter. behind the defensive armour ...

snatches of bright cotton sliding off to the south, pinned onto chocolat bleu Parisien just aches with paix. it's more ...