Young Writers Society

Life is like the ocean It loves to play about Sometimes full of joy or sorrow Sometimes full of doubt Life is like the ocean Life is like the sea ...

My grandparents' walls are covered with clocks, and the memoirs of their ship: Invictus, reads the anchor on the coffee table. They sailed around the world before I was born, ...

I see from the inside out Though no one else believes me I just can't help but wonder Do my eyes deceive me? They see an object of desire A ...

they splutter The Old Lie into our beer caked speakers at this open mic night, every man with bohemian rhapsody splattered down their tux and ties, every lady batting mascara ...

We snap our fingers into flame, calling for another shot to douse our heathen throats in tequila spirits; stumbling off our moral equator, that runs just south of Jalisco. Dipping ...

Sorry this is a rough draft!!!! Love and trust Is a wounderful experience Faith Emotional rollarcoaster

Is it enough to feel? Waking up flat-backed in the woodwork of my coffin, and I can smell that you were here. After bleeding from the sides where you used ...

My fingers flutter. The keys glisten with the color of age – Yellow. Yellow like the sun, That casts light on the music. Each note is lovely and perfect in ...

Father, I am afraid I will never make you proud, I am not the perfect child you sought hard to protect and guide, I have chosen to do things you ...

Lyndsey Loves Daphne Loves Derby written January 16, 2007 I hate you and your broad shoulders pompous mouth big word collection and what does that even mean anyway when you ...

We lay there Your arms around me Skin so soft Body so warm But you're no survivor It almost feels good Knowing I can Pleasure you like that But I ...

All my life I knew you you were more than a friend you were my brother you were always there when i needed you i used to joke that you ...

Don't mind the dedication; it's totally an inside joke. Also, this is my first official attempt at a poem, so feel free to rip me apart in order for me ...

Another creepy poem by me. Again, it starts out short. I'm not sure I can do any more to it, like I could with Child. But if someone asks.... I'll ...

Music stirs on the trembling blades of grass, a symphony erupts on evening's folded head. Melodic whispers from the swaying reeds, drunk on dew that hangs from budding leaves. Bull ...