Young Writers Society

I miss the times when I had friends and could laugh at anything without caring I miss my life before this change And I miss talking to my "friends" And ...

This is a free write I did last night How can I ever love you? With every selfish action that has hurt in so many ways. You never truly listen ...

we go for a walk on an empty night. i meet him under an oak tree. the leaves are dying under a golden light. we sit on a cold brick ...

There's a place where all My toughts flow A Place where all My feelings manage to go A Waistland deserted and all Alone A Waistland cold and all of My ...

Now that Ieatworms has vacated the Society, I can post all my poems I've written about how terrible she made me feel. This is the most recent. The first time, ...

The title was rather appropiate...thanks for not naming it "I know what it tastes like". I liked "Nostalgia" a lot. I love how the first and second stanza blended together ...

Zakei’s took off in a stoner’s hippie van, his only bag cow’s clothing, echo. A toothbrush, a bathing suit, some underwear a couple of twenty-dollar bills. His black trenchcoat, filled ...

Glossy black on blinding white, Feathers gleam in moon-pale light, They shake white showers from the trees, Ravens ride the icy breeze. Blots of ink on a paper sheet, Purity ...

It is a scoundrel fact That there are ends To things that never See their own beginnings; That things can die Before they are born Into the process of dying. ...

And she’s reaching for a feeling She can’t see and never knew before, Getting hurts her habit, But it’s so much harder to ignore, Her painful heart beating, It’s aching ...

I was just standing there, Feeling the suns heat, Then I saw you, And my heart skipped a beat. I fell asleep that night, Little did I know, That about ...

Great rainbow-flowed fields Turn away from me And I wonder why as I defy gravity And, hovering three feet off the ground I will watch an era pass And I ...

This one made me smile, despite whatever reaction it was in fact meant to produce. There was a hint of psychotic predisposition that added to the sorrow it carried, and ...

....and, again, deleted....

you shall see none of me when I am gone my words felled in the silent wake of a cut tongue not a cricket shall peep from the fields where ...