Young Writers Society

Found Poem – Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man p. 79 Half Dublin was witless; circling round the neighbouring square, down sidestreets, a skeleton map in his mind. ...

This was written by one of my friends. Please crit. Cold and dank and all encompasing Its tendrils swirl towards you Hiding, muffling, smothering, choking Those tendrils wrap you close ...

Unseen monsters creeping under your bed, Hungry, gleaming eyes watching your every move, Winged menaces fluttering through the thick, cold mist, Furry, fanged creatures crouching on your rooftop, The

Gods how I love you so much And I'm itching just to feel your touch I want you to have my soul my flesh and blood But you've left me ...

In a dream that I had It was just you and me It was dark all around And clouds filled the sky A light flashed above Then a crack split ...

For a second I click away the media I can breathe while snapping shut X’s And as I tick past windows I can’t help But wonder what I’m really worth ...

Well it's been a few months since I've written anything that could be considered poetry, so I thought I'd give it another go. I've probably lost my touch. Enjoy. Snake-Lady ...

Sitting in a dark corner, Unable to move, The nightmare I expierenced, Left me confused. Staring at the body, Laying five feet away, I wish for it to move, But ...

Drugged Diatribe Canto I Proud beneath colorful and drab delusions that beckon me from the non-truth that always seems to grow, fungally, on my mind. Harbinger! Harbinger! My mind shouts ...

my tongue is dry now, my cheeks are salty from tears, my thoat is clogged with unspoken words. ti prego, non lasciarmi i tried to find you. stumbling through the ...

Swallowing our ribbons When we gather Decorative and verdant We are eating laughter Tonight the air is high-drifting Between us the space is rifting We will be tongue twisting By ...

This sickening secret is too much to take Every time I'm around him, I am acting fake. You've lied and cheated, and unfairly involved me But this situation has really ...

Several Lines of Iambic Pentameter (Not a Sonnet) to Xanthan_Gum By Elizabeth Mathers 3-15-06 Merry Ides of March! Warning: This is not a sonnet, this is just several lines of ...

Hellcat I'm a hellcat I write to little children letters about little Christmas angels run over by cars on highways I write about you and how some people would kill ...

I don’t want to be frank It’s not like me be blunt Not like me take stabbing attempts At wounded, young innocents But I’m tired And I’ve wasted grains of ...