Young Writers Society

I run my fingers down the wood that once formed the cross of Jesus; it lines these walls, it keeps the winter out. Shades of sepia streetlights and monochrome moonglow ...

When I look up into the dark And stars fill up my eyes I think: “A new universe could be out there,” And it makes me feel amazing. When I ...

This is a piece I wrote a year ago for my English class. Feel free to review. Catholic Maryling, An A grade student, Why would she do such a thing? ...

1,2,3,4,5 That is how i count quickly A,B,C,D,E That is how i say letters A quick simple mode to learn

I wrote this poem at around seven in the morning, when I realized that all my mornings start with the exact same routine, down to the minute I get downstairs. ...

In the morning, she dresses herself in layers: yesterday eyes, with tomorrow’s dress and a voice borrowed from the girl on the corner, who sells flowers and nightly dreams of ...

How To Write A Poem Hear a word draw a sound. See a picture that's profound. Think on colors, dream on clouds. Touch the skies, it never dies. Catch a ...

A poem there once was sitting in this thread I delteted it like lightining so I may go to bed

When did the storm clouds become so ominous? No; I know that life-altering day. A better question is why. Does she control your life now? Am I to be discarded ...

Here, where the weather seldom matches the name of the town, I look at the sky and wonder what exists past the clouds. Sometimes I think I see my face ...

ignore this i rewrote this as as a song....but just dont know how to delete this post.

So this is a poem I worte a while back, it's my first poem on this site: Lying alone, pale as the moon Thought she was safe but spoke too ...

Sand coat our feet Waves lick our toes As we peer out to the horizon A globe of fire Paint hues to the sky Showers of it's red light shadowing ...

The dark candle burns with memories, both ends alight, Inebriated? No. Just stoned from birth, but never forgotten. The dark secrets, Of a nuns dress, The hair of time, weaved ...

"Who knows who cares The knowledge of war is theirs For some to seek, others find To know what lies in honest mind Fire to the frost and death to ...