Young Writers Society

Second Thoughts The metallic twilight is long since gone, leaving us with it's taste in our mouths, and infinite washes of moonlight to turn on and off. Expression is to ...

The Garden Of Life Greed is like a thistle, Its flowers hold much beauty, As they stand on thorny stems. Hate is like a nettle, You cannot clasp it in ...

::a few things to forget:: add water to the ocean just to watch it go again turning into rain found on porchsteps of American homes because little children feel that's ...

but when it's the end of the worlddo you think we'll have a reason to live? I used to read you like a bestseller, but to you I was just ...

"We shall go on to the end ... we shall never surrender" - Winston Churchill spare a minute for the ones nobody wants to remember, who let us be who ...

she finds herself beneath the waves that ripple across the expansive, open sea her skin pickled from the briney immersion she's tried to kill herself before something only small-child-spaces know ...

There is a place, far, far away, I drink from the waters when drowning in pain. All of my grief washes away At the halcyon waters of Halcyon Bay. Where ...

There’s too much drama these days Too much drama and too much nothing Empty days and hollow weeks Make for useless years When you know what you want But you ...

One of these days I'll peel off my skin Then none of you will recognise me I'll be a strech of blank canvas On which to paint my own tree ...

Glistening stars in the sky Reflect in your glittering eyes. Your breath so warm As you hold me tight. This silent moment, with just you and me There is nowhere ...

lighting never strikes twice (this) left me wondering why genius strikes ligting quick with all the force of Vesuvias the chalkboard scratches are scars of purest silk, milky against the ...

the machinists the touch at first is tentative then curious, as flesh meets flesh and all coherency is aborted the tumble of babbling springs forth into the clamy, damp air ...

baby doll she takes his kisses no matter what whether they be a slap on the cheek or the press of coldwhite knuckles she surrenders her body lax under the ...

the kid with the gun is my neighbor the two-colored eye man watches over the domain of the 3-legged dog whose limp is stiff from metal-pronged puppet strings daytime suburia ...

Sylvia If you look through the dipping boughs of the elm trees you can see the glittering patches of light that is her genius hidden beneath shadow layers of cotton ...