Young Writers Society

When a leaf touches another, And a flower listens to the wind, Passion breaks between the trees When the oceans roars against a cliff, And the waves gently hit the ...

I wrote this simple poem when I was a bit younger when I heard that there could be a military draft for the War in Iraq. Although I doubt it ...

A long pause, A gaping mouth, Jaw moving, No sounds. Meaningless gestures, Occasional words, But…Just…how, Deep breath. Head in hands, Turn away, No words, Walks off. She doesn’t know, What ...

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a farewell. a long, sad goodbye. for many years, he held onto his trangression and locked it in the gun rack leaving it in its disposition: oiled and shined, loaded ...

Its like living stuck in the mud. The same old routine, The same places, The same people. You try to move things forward. Add a chapter to your life But ...

Kill For You There's nothing I wouldn't do, Anything -- I'd kill for you. I see you walking down the hall. Can you see me? You walk right past me: ...

[The following poem was written after an inspiration from my Geography lesson on World Food Hunger. It is really quite a sad fate for those poor guys living in impoverished ...

I posted this in dramatic poetry a month ago... but I would like critique from the people here, mostly from Brad, but also everyone who has something to say. So ...

another Fruits Basket rut. Sorry, but not looking for really serious/specific crits here, just needed to get this out of my system. Full of dark rooms Full of shadows, Pain, ...

We are on the window lattice, holding throbbing hearts in our hands. Moonlight-painted faces, as cold as dreams twenty two thousand leages out of reach - Adam and Eve revelation; ...

Some of you may know this one already, and don't worry, a new poem or two or three shall be coming soon!(Or four!...Or five even if I've the inspiration enough...Right ...

We are but sinners in the hands of an angry god, upheld by no more than his mere pleasure. A conflagration smolders in eyes of malice, while the damned lie ...

I knew an amazing storyteller once; he used to talk in great waves, distorting space and time, and weaving majestic tales through the immeasurable tapestry of the infinite. Occasionally, during ...

night air sticks to the insides of my ribs dizzying breathlessness on the verge of tears, terror – .....................can you feel it pulsing now? passion never really was our strong ...