Young Writers Society

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 ...

I haven't anything to say, but, you have a way with words. I'm not sure I caught the whole idea/subject behind it, but still, it was beautiful. Your poetry sometimes ...

This poem is pretty cruddy. But please tell me what you think! Ground Zero I watched you two meet ends as you wove yourself throughout the room. I've stared her ...

They told me I was beautiful. But the mirror revealed lies. They told me I was talented. The mirror said otherwise. So I wrapped a string of pearls, ‘round my ...

after watching a presentation about Road Traffic Collisions today, i thought i'd try to express one of the anecdote's we were told --------- He’s out now, but still He’s trapped ...

Feedback Wanted!!! Please let me know what you think. Things Aren’t as Heavy When Someone Helps You Carry Them I moved a large table by myself Now my back is ...

Submitted for publication.

she spent all day ripping crayola to pieces, rainbows stuck beneath her fingernails -- colorsticks soon mashed together, flecks of a childhood blown to smithereens littering the lonely Spanish tiles ...