Young Writers Society

No One Is a nobody But not everyone Is a somebody. And I dedicate this poem, For the ones who killed, At Columbine High School.

how can you love someone who yields so easily to the crush of your body pushing her backwards, posing her into seductive shapes on your dirty sheets. who submitted, so ...

First off, I wasn't exactly sure where to put here it is. I don't like to title things, so this'll probably end up without one. One more thing, if you're ...

I walk through the Hall The Hall of 100 Mirrors. In each one I see A different side of me Even though they're all the same. In one, who I ...

They will fight today They will fight tommarow All the while Their expressions full of sorrow As the enemy nears but a thousand paces The soldiers hold their ground keeping ...

It's a place I can hardly remember,But a place I would like to be,A dream that I once had,A hope I can't just imagine.Everything I hate,Is looking like everything I ...

I dodge lightening boltsIn a raging storm.I'm searching for shelter,For all around me is darkness.I'm running in a direction,One I can't identify.I'm screaming for help.But no one seems to hear.The ...

I try not to remember,But the past is stained on my heart.I've tried to wash it out,With thoughts of happiness,Yet, I still see the past,Standing clearly and boldly.Life's not getting ...

This is one of my favourite (rhyming) poem's I've written and I'd appreciate any hints on how to improve it. Its still in raw, just-as-it-was-written form, so I know there ...

I'm not sure about this one. I've only just started to work with non-rhyming poetry (I used to hate blank verse, etc., coz it didnt rhyme..I cant believe myself, sometimes, ...

Does it work here?!?!? I don't really know. In the air, Between the trees, You can feel The cool morning breeze. Up in the trees, A bird if born. Off ...

Not sure where it goes, so it goes in here. Well, hope you like it. Lying there, in the grass, I think about life. What is it That makes it ...

She cuts herself to vent the pain, alleviate the strain, everydays the same. When she gets tired of life, her salvations the knife, become it's slave, it's master and it's ...

My last poem wasn't greatly received, so here goes. Take away my freedom Lock me in a box Keep me against my will With a thousand locks Do you even ...

It sits there like a photograph, a still life painted in the corners of my mind. Leaning closer, I brush aside the cobwebs and taste the colours on my fingertips; ...