Young Writers Society

I think this poem is missing something but I can't quite figure out what it is so therefore I can't add it. Please help me if you can! you know, ...

the secret glances that we swopped across a crowded room filled with the smell of teenage hormones and suicide attempts we're an uneven pair in an uneven world and nothing ...

I like it, but the first stanza just seems not as useful as the others, and almost looks like it doesn't even need to be there. It seemed a little ...

the wind blows through your hair and your mind and it feels like breath of fresh air but you don't want to be blown away like all the rest there ...

This poem was written January 19, 2005 aka looooong time ago. I just felt like posting it.It's kind of stupid though. I dreaded all those hot summer days that never ...

no one sees what you put your heart into in a scratched up binder bent out of shape. their papers flapping in the wind you don't care when they get ...

Anyone who reads my poetry on the site knows that I am not a very good poet. Here's my final attempt at poetry, I swear. I'm just trying to get ...

the clouds were bleeding acid rain and they sprayed graffiti with messages of love the walls were illuminated in the moonlight and they recycled broken hearts for the poor with ...

Pretty darn me it felt like a trip of self-realisation well-portrayed, without getting stuck in long words.

I hate poetry! It throttles the soul of writing And forces the words to come out Then it warps them further till they’re Twisted hopelessly beyond help. I hate poetry! ...

(No preamble. Here's my sonnet) Are you sorry for everything you said, And all the things you forgot to say too, When everything got so complicated, And you said I ...

So this is the time of teenage kicks Let’s all go out and get pissed There's time to learn, and time to grow But we're not afraid to let feelings ...

NOTE: If you haven't already read it, I would encourage you to read this: forum/viewtopic.php?t=1377&start=0&postdays=0&postorder=asc&highlight=summer+aint+reality before reading the following poem. -

you always pray for thunderstorms the night before so tomorrow's skirmishes are a foregone conclusion your wallet is full of useless notes and a collection of slowly decaying pennies that ...

why does it matter what goes on in your room on the side of the bed that no one sees? does it matter if you're alone and writing of a ...