Young Writers Society

People call me scary, this is a message telling that I'm not.

This poem is about hope and how much ofa wonderful juxaposition it is, illustrated but it being all different kinds of light that still are the same.

(Trigger Warning) A man finds something in an alleyway

...

Inspired by a Billy Collins poem

This is my first poetry..hope you like it!

Look at me See my hands See me speak I AM SHOUTING, with my hands LISTEN TO ME Hear my hands Hear my story Please Speak to ...

we stand together smoke billowing from your mouth the grey air speaks the words that we can't say right now the rain is softly drizzling from the beautifully damp night ...

...

well I've seen colors and hands and faces, all blues and sullen purples, And one time I watched one change like moonlight to a summer night and that was one ...

Who needs answers? And who wants one, anyway? You read my poem, review my stuff, and ask me questions. Why? Does life give perfect answers? Not for me. Sure, I ...

See when you met me have you forgot me Seems to me you think of yourself without me Completely damage by all things you will become You running scared tryna ...

The crimes that you commit Will never be equal to mine. Isn't that right? What you drill into my head? What you never-endingly whip me with. Others tell me I ...

Being with you is like a wind-up toy car If I let you go now l guarantee you’d go far I cannot believe in your revolution When the lesser of ...

'' when you told me you loved someone else; I wasshattered like a broken glass. I did not know what to do, to hate or to ...