Young Writers Society

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 ...

Four Two girls and two boys Two pairs of friends Two hates and two loves Two as one again Cigarette butts and empty bottles Thrown around the floor People leave ...

Alone Balancing vase-like in swollen thought, all my cries have been for naught. My whole universe was shattered. You were the only thing that mattered. Left all by myself again, ...

intimate fragility, shared, living on whispers: surviving in hand-drawn hearts. its pulse fluctuates, spiralling into alien depths; we want to exonerate it from purpose: remove the parasite. yet, in t

This is abstract in the extreme. It was so very bizarre, but I took your advise, to ''lineorize'' and look at each sentence as a moment in a dreamscape. At ...