Young Writers Society

Beauty is seen on hearts of red You are my queen of hearts as said. My dear princess, I am your slave. For king as I, bow till my grave. ...

Magnificent sea, great and vast in size, you are there as I open my eyes. Each time I ride your waters, memories fill my cup. Though my wife was taken ...

i was reading oscar wilde on the bus. i got off at the station amidst conventional stares of sunscreen, water bottles and ponytails. i didn't care. i opened oscar wilde ...

I wish that I could look into your mind, Just so I can see how many times I cross it, Before you came along I had one, But I met ...

she's the one they stare at with her "i love billy corgan" satchel bag and the blondedyedreddyedbrowndyedblonde hair sitting on her shoulders. the colourful bracelets on her wrist, the long ...

A CORRUPT LAND In the midst of corruption, Where there seems to be no perfection, Where the rich rule the poor, And the hungry feed on oppression. What shall they ...

*smacks head against wall* Okay, I SUCK at poetry, but I couldn't think of anything prose-y to do for my dad on Father's Day. Will you guys do me a ...

i've never seen a baby photo of you. it may seem crazy but your mum never got out the old, dusty maroon album and sat me down on the couch ...

so i stare at tigerskin again and feel the complete, woven silence that warms my bare shoulders with its fingertips, reborn from banging glitter and punching voices. it was air-conditioning ...

plastic nostalgia, it's a world where it's only pink, blue or yellow - there's no black. glow-in-the-dark singlets and stripes on shoes. chunky clumps of happiness amidst every perfect colour ...

You promised me a song The saddest song you could play Piano man Help me forget With your mournful keys Play me the Moonlight Sonata, please Play it with your ...

The Bus by Dan Sanders Another siren wails through the air peircing it, like a sword peirces flesh; its just an ordinary day wailing, wailing, like the mourners at tomorrows ...

it bleeds dry sepia blood like cheap postcards which we devour like burning chocolat chaud à l'école. two chalk-white panadols are remaining in the cutting, green-splashed foil with round, plastic ...

You people never cease to confuse me. All I wanted was to share my greatest happiness with you. I tell you about what I believe and how it has changed ...

The crisp and snowy morning brought back All those memories of long ago Of white satin bows and daffodils Of church yards filled with song and Baby ducks in the ...