Young Writers Society

I’m insane, clown-painted prowler, half an hour from the genius on the table. Indeed you are Brad... nice job. It reminds me of te anime series that just ended after ...

Time has passed and I have healed, So don't think I still feel for you. The tide’s gone out and I've not drowned, So don't think I still bleed for ...

jetlag poetry touche (exit) I keep this gun in the bible you gave me it chases my demons down deep alleyways ending in surreal gun fights that always feature a ...

My daddy still grabs my arm as we're walking along the road and a car plunges forth through the embroidered night. He may be an old black shoe, but I ...

Enjoy todayPersue tomorrowCherish yesterday Grinning everyday behind your back, watching your soft ears turn bright pink, someone once compared you to a lump of red clay. Was it me? I ...

Please stay nearby You know I try To not let your memory Pass me by Do not cry Let me die Just hold my hand And say goodbye No need ...

Yes, because it's called perception. Am I right? Am I right!? And, for lack of feedback, I end with that.

hey guys, I´m in Salamanca, Spain right now. Sitting in an internet cafe at a comp with a crappy keyboard with missing tilethingies. jetlag poetry the onset of a jetlag ...

It all changed the night you cut your hair, when you opened a portal to make-up and low-cut designer tops. Crossing your legs, hands in pockets, newfangled music. It gave ...

I'm not even sure I like this. I was just trying something new. Theres an incredibly abstract idea behind this too, which I probably can't explain in a way that ...

It is in all of us and it lurks and it searches for you... And it's always there and it watches you while you sleep as the hands on the ...

& this shit’s so confusing. I feel like I’m losing, Touch with the only, Person, I’m so lonely, Without. Full of doubt, & a life put on pause, Due to ...

Soft soothing voices and acoustic guitars, Lamenting the moon above, although we're higher, Laughing and joking with no unhappy thoughts, Beer bottles in hands, reflecting the fire. Waves crash softly

There is this highschool class called Creative Expressions. If I think about it, you can read this, just the way they do. It has such this wonderful flow and your ...

She seems to be wicked But she’s not She’s the gentlest girl around And I know I shouldn’t It’s against who I am But I can’t help myself I love ...