Young Writers Society

Lord ... Why? Is it because I don't believe in you? Is it because you made a mistake? Were they not deserving? Was that baby meant to live or die? ...

Showered in petal drops of stillness Kissing suns as they set Sweet within my flowerbed Earth’s blood glimmers with your sweat Pink’s own passion, fallen red Fair dream weaver in ...

The dark embrace cold wrapped around a heart of stone Burrowing into the depths of a troubled soul A black forest mingled with loss mingled with fear A rugged cross ...

Crashing, the world is distorted. Smashing there is no calm. I long to journey away from this mess. Tell me, would that be wrong? I hear it now, the thunder, ...

I'm combining you in my glass dream system from gritty mornings to future it's a project i took on only by free will (you're all numbers to me) is this ...

ok tell me if this is in the catorgrey hi my name is rob and i live in malvern i play the bass guitar, playstaion and all and on monday ...

Though far away I feel like I've known you I see intelligence Something evidently new... You're glowing You're artistic ability is constant And so slowly I begin to realize just ...

[pre]Hi all, this poem is not anything in the ordinary, in fact it's quite unusual. It would take me a year to explain the subject matter to you, so I ...

Fragrance beauty, tender red, dews that make a crystal bed, on these soft petals, of a rose, The flower that I long adore.

Welcome home New Jersey To another rainy day Splattered sidewalk cement Skies weary, splattered gray People wander on the streets While thinking where to go They dawdle, trying to defeat ...

The little secrets seemed so big to us, And playing with dolls didn't seem so dumb, But all that was before your senseless fuss, Before reality became so numb. Remember ...

Song of Chief After seeing One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest Laughter is written on the windows—insanity drunk and swinging at night—ornaments on a sad tree—liquor in the hearts of ...

Two poems in one, written straight after the other. I figured I'd save some space on the board :D Windmill You stand alone in the field, Your wheel clattering as ...

Apparently so. It beats doing real work at school. There's no real point to any of them. Enjoy. Insomnia is, cropcircles burned into wax, and doubt with matches. The curtains ...

This is what we back on the home forum call a remix: taking someone else's title or inspiration or opening line and turning it into something different. If you want ...