Young Writers Society

This was really sweet Brad... it sounds like this romantic break-up, thank you poem that... wow. I mean aside from the fact it was a bit weird to read in ...

Listening to your words,your eyes tearing me love being the only thing,to help me drown.Slowly suffocating;rearranging,the ugliness that's always been there.You made it pretty for awhile,like it reall

Fun challenge - though I'm, ah, not much of a poet. Thoughts are welcome - written on the run. Once a sad fellow - Brenaeus Bree; A wanderer of far ...

quietus on an Aegean Urn - On Reading Edge by Sylvia Plath - she is just a woman perfected in death. an illusion in greek fresco from the isle of ...

[untitled] Once, I walked along the shores of Lake Superior, on the cradled, massaged, thrown & ancient stones, barefoot in April, scarcely a fortnight since Winter's end. The waves were ...

I shout, but none will hear me. I scream but none care. Is it possible, can they see, how miserable life can be? I scream I shout! Please, let me ...

He Walked Among the Unspoiled Rushes He walked among the unspoiled rushes Which lined the shores of sparkling ponds, A free soul, untouched by dirt-covered hands And seen by few ...

I see you staring at me. Your face is hard, your eyes are cold. Your stare has trapped me in its hold. Turn away, look away, I beg you please! ...

The fierce ocean leaping over distant rocks, Moving closer to me at every heart beat. Feeling the pulse racing trying not to look, But hypnotized by the powerful waves getting ...

I see my life in raindrops; tiny water-bubbled memories, as they fall. And I wait for the deafening thunder; the reckoning of realization hits, that I am myself, so very ...

Wow. I think you've finally nailed it. This has the same feeling that attracted me to your poetry in the first place. My own plea is to use a BIT ...

Im a terrible poet but I thought I would submit: The Alibird The Alibird, so fine, Its fangs, divine, Its wings, so free, Alibird is She? Its talons, so sharp, ...

More emotion, less poetry darling; make sense for once. Don’t quote sonnets to me about despair that you know nothing of. This is serious indeed, a grave matter has come ...

A stroke of blue and a spot of orange, visualize the sun and the ocean. A mist of black and a dot of white, the midnight glow reflects commotion. A ...

if I could turn my eyes around and view the gelatinous fillings of my skull would it make me less of a man? common sense dictates that if the blood ...