Young Writers Society

OMYGOSHHHHHH. I'm sorry, I don't mean to get all immature about it but this poem is awesome. If I wrote something like this, it would take me years and years. ...

The American Dream isn’t well known to many people. The definition of the American Dream is rather simple; it is the desire of Americans to have freedom and to be ...

Tagging in the District. Waiting for assistance. Police Cars in the Distance. Tagging in the District. It me first attempt don't laugh

Hey this is Just a stupid poem There once was a girl called Louisa, Who was definitely not out to please ya, She'd give you a hug, Then out come ...

written for my boyfriend who lives, works and goes to school in London. this goes out to all that were affect by the bombings there, and to all that are ...

"Who ARE you?" I am the machine. The supercomputer built in 2072 for the soul purpose of calculating the probability ratio of the nexus time rip. "Nexus time rip?" The ...

“Well at least it’s not that bad of a place,” I said glancing at the huge grand piano in the middle of the room. I looked over to my parents ...

I took it down, as I was informed that having a book I wanted to publish out all over the internet opens me up to be plagurized. Um... duh. So, ...

your golden green leaves decorate the feral branches, reaching over bypassers reaching into their hearts wild strands of bark, fluttering in the italian wind, mesmerising and free the simple flower ...

.

What is vanity among people? Over and over again it's beauty Beauty in the people O, but what is beauty? Is it in the eye of the beholder? Or maybe ...

Why does it always seem to be that way? You come up and I start to sway. I look in your eyes, my own mingled in hate. But I can't ...

You said I was the “stupidest bitch” you‘d ever met, Then knocked me to the ground. Before that moment, I never knew, How to scream without uttering a sound. You ...

Thought I'd something contemporary, for a change...enjoy. *** My bike screeches to a halt. The tall, imposing Williams house looms overhead, the family Porsche lies right in front of me ...

(I've never attempted narrative poetry, so if I dropped the ball, let me know where this belongs...and don't say the trash or I'll cry) In the darkness, I reached out ...