Young Writers Society

Hair press: out the door. Let its metal plates decay. I’m getting dreadlocks. ---- I call it a hair press, but it is also known as a flat iron, or ...

Wow. I think this is your best yet. It's long, but it develops, and so subtly, and delicately... it carries none of the show-off, or lusty, or love-deprived, or attention-seeking, ...

You offer a quick nod to the passer-by; your humanity obliged to acknowledge the humanity in another. Racing down florescent subway tunnels, you divert your eyes to watch the flicker ...

I run my fingers down the wood that once formed the cross of Jesus; it lines these walls, it keeps the winter out. Shades of sepia streetlights and monochrome moonglow ...

Here I’ll Always Be~ Thrown away by a beloved person; Pain is immense as are the memories. The tears falling in my hand are cursen, The quills in my heart ...

The discomfited fidgeting in my hand, the twitch as my fingers rub the door frame, five times too many, five times too many, five times too many. and again. While ...

the taste of cotton wakes you up in some no-hour, windowless room. rubbing flakes of caked eye makeup on cement floors, you crawl into your coat and down the sidewalk ...

I do quite like this poem. I like the structure alot and the way you have singled out certain lines. I really love the opening to the poem aswell: It ...

I really like this. I couldn't find much flaw in the actual content. It's definitely original. I love the descriptions at the end. The quote, "I don't care if you ...

This is the first poem i've written in a while, as I mainly prefer to write stories, but anyway, read, enjoy and all constructive criticism would be much appreciated. Thank ...

You were never more than a hang up on the answering machine; a missed call, a series of mechanical bleeps and blurbs, compelled to voice by the prompting of my ...

This is the first poem i've written in..well...ever. I'm not sure about some of the words and it probably needs some work but I just wanted some feedback. Im also ...

Crazy Me This is my crazy song. My faith, My redemption, My hopes, The turning of a new leaf. This is me. Unveiled. Untold. Unfinished. The birth of a legend. ...

Sleek and supple imperfection The desired blotched reflection. Hallucinating tandem thoughts Reverie becomes sick plots Taste turns to a tangent plea Imprudence preening impunity Eloquence a suede acc

Teenager You ask me what’s wrong With the world today? But you seem to forget I really don’t care What happened at school? You always ask me Didn’t you know ...