Young Writers Society

This poem is more of a song ((for reasons that would take too long to explain)) but it can be a poem. I wasn't sure where to put it, because ...

This poem has been knocking around in my head for a while, but I am having trouble on several accounts: 1. I need to work in the main context of ...

The title is taken from the song, Maria, from Paint Your Wagon. The poem itself is a bit tweaky and here and there but I've been crying... give me another ...

I speak of shadows Filter the night The long distance stars Shine on me so bright I watch the future Fade in your hand There still is so much That ...

Tiny white knuckles, gentle baby's knees. The way that changing a foul diaper never offends. True baby's breath. Not as flowery as a bouquet, but just as sweet, and twice ...

My friend died.She was beautiful.I'll remember her forever. Oh please, this girl was getting stoned on my couch every day, run down in her boyfriend's boxers, burning through whatever would ...

Again, all thoughts and comments are appreciated. The middle section doesn't seem to be working that well, but I've no ideas on how to fix it. The food imagery is ...

(Er... another lame attempt of mine at poetry. Do not be too lenient. I must learn after all.) One of those tepid nights where the coat-less shiver and fools play ...

Respect Is just re-used compliments Dipped in chocolate And served to a woman On a silver platter Men don’t make respect They steal it From another chef And serve it ...

The make up it stains your face and you know it On the outside you’re laughing, smiling, deceiving Waiting for you to crack They say don’t play with fire But ...

Through his eyes the world is perfect. Everything is in its place, Nothing deserves a second thought. Through his eyes the stars sparkle in the night. The moonlight filters in ...

You always have the capacity to surprise me, Incan I think that's what I like best about your poems: you can tell they're yours, but they never get boring because ...

The Way It Is A great land of arrogant fools Forces thoughts on the unsuspecting Sheds the red of shadows Of a source unseen Destruction and death on one side ...

Sitting alone here in the dark Drenched in pain I think of life Its all a game Of win and lose Of breaking through Its all fake Just a game ...

Flapping,breathing cold crisp air. A rider on my back, Hearing him laugh in sheer delight ,and knowing he to enjoys the flight, Is music to my ear. Reluctantly I come ...