Young Writers Society

It is a scoundrel fact That there are ends To things that never See their own beginnings; That things can die Before they are born Into the process of dying. ...

you shall see none of me when I am gone my words felled in the silent wake of a cut tongue not a cricket shall peep from the fields where ...

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I close my eyes all i see is your face I notice your pain yet you show so much grace I think of you and what I could do to ...

I like the start I got on this, but it could use some work and I'm kind of please let me know what you think. Oh, and I hate the ...

Unexpected, there you were infront of me Unexpected, we crossed eachothers ways, just in time to see Unexpected, it all had happened so fast I just wish I could make ...

Do you like your home sweet home? You’re living in the corner of my eye. Planting poison and spreading lies. While one is beautifully moving, the other painfully shy. And ...

I sit here in my room, Rocking in my chair. Wasting my life away my live with T.V. Thinking of you, I think of your smile. Which I love when ...

Long ago I dreamt you falling,And in that moment had a longing:To watch your graceful shapes pass by,In white raiment, from the sky. I was thinking of a dream I ...

In the cold, the world slows down Airs eerie movements become incarnate in mist Light seems almost to halt in solid strands Creating beautifully intricate sculptures of glow Elegant wisps ...

Lilliane She lays like the night, long black bird lashes Cast against Ivory white chilling skin, Hands folded gently over the dip between her breasts, Her weddingmourn dress pulls at ...

>Personally I hardly get this poem, I just sat down one day and wrote it. So i figured I would put it on here just because i can. to get ...

FREEDOM'S PRICE Twice walked I, upon a land so beauteous, as tore my soul to contemplate a lesser place should even be, exist at all. A pride, thought I, not ...

I’m forgetting the time, All of my thoughts are arranged in a rhyme, I’m spitting them out line by line. I’m telling my story, I’m setting my stage, I’m spilling ...

I'm not pretty. I'm not skinny. I don't have a lot to offer. I don't have much to give. Why are you still here? Why haven't you gone for something ...