Young Writers Society

I wrote this little piece for myself. I deem it rather appropriate for today, as I am celebrating my 701 year in Paris, Texas. Sharty, gleaming Sharty Pride of the ...

This is the last time it will be like this. Leaves crinkling underneath my yielding broom as I fight the urge to straddle it, flash a wicked grin and instead ...

I'll be away again for a week, so make sure you give me lots of nice advice and nasty criticism to come back to. Love you all, etc etc blah ...

A storm approaches to strip me of my childhood. I can feel it like the tension in a room, before the exchange of angry words. No longer are there monsters ...

Let it drown away the pain Nothing can harm me from behind this wall This invisible barrier Them foes strike feebly at it b-b-but it cannot touch me My eyes ...

I sit at the dinner table in a room bedecked in age old history Time is a frenzied whirlwind in my ears Tearing past, blurring colors and shapes in its ...

Take me home Mother, take me home. Take me home to the land I was born to the land I call hom Take me home. Father, take me home. Take ...

Tinder and ash. On top of shoes, it slides and whisks off into the corridor-darkness. Fallen masters march these labyrinth halls, hands pocketed, hollow mirth. Outside the window, we all ...

On Spiritos - A Poetic Freewrite: 31 July, 2006 A none too lucid rambling of my subconscious, from a long, long time ago. NRJ-TSR. Enjoy! . . . I’ve found ...

Invisible, I disappear into my mental gloom. Unseen, I creep into the sweet haven of my room. I feel as though I soon shall fade from memory and from thought. ...

Apple grinds are not filtered out; they cling to the capillary walls inside you, speaking selfless confidence in your ears during your wasteland-nights. It slides off your skin into a ...

If only we had more time. The time together could have been shining. But since our time was short. I'll have to make this quick, Every minute, every second we ...

I've seen her only in chosen times.But every time i found myself wondering forward into their eyes.I've only talk to her in awkward silences.Which kept my heart beating with violence.And ...

The storm is wicked. Half-drenched in underage champagne, I stare as God’s woody fingers swirl and spin in a world of majestic half-truths. Full-blown masts sweep me away, a magic ...

Posted this one on TSR but I figured I might as well re-post it over here. ** West Point Fairy Tale Stop that-- I can't breathe when you're looking at ...