Young Writers Society

The coming of the new day: the Rapture to our fragile state of mind. A faith so compromised, we write our own prophetic verses; cryptic scratches in our journals— amounting ...

thieves driving big trucks This isn't really needed. Well-composed, and, although it was predictable, I enjoyed it. Not much to say here, so I'll leave it blank for now. If ...

I dont know, it needs work i think but i'm not sure what to do with it. I lay my head to rest sleeping can caress my sins away. I ...

The night swelters, Hot and loud, Alarms screech like electric cicadas And frantic dusty wings grope for light, A long day has passed ripe with beauty and ache I've walked ...

We emerge from the seditary rain, shrieking laughter into the empty halls of bookcases, where echos are snitched in the middle of aisles, on the bottom of paper cups. Here ...

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The teacher sighed and stared at the little children coloring in the blue jay. He sees only blue and not vibrant mixtures of colors. But he is the one that ...

Cry alone, you’ve gone away, No more nights, some much pain You’ve gone alone, took all my strength I’ve had my world changed, I won’t see you tonight. [CHOURS] Sorrow, ...

my heart pulses. in tune with the world(s) and their silent stories. my soul throbs, wrung with the emotion of a million men. characters. I hear the whispers of untold ...

Accelerando slows to Dolce, Harmonies blend in dancing rivers Notes swirl perfectly in rhythm, Then, in back, a drum beat pounds. Allegro, crescendo, forte, scherzo, Eighth notes flicker ‘round each

These three are technically separate poems, but they have a single inspiration and were written within minutes of each other. Why separate triplets? Monotony, The metronomes rhythm continues, No cresc

I feel kinda bad about posting this because i haven't review in a long time... Oopsy... Ah well, I'll try harder now. Anyway, the poem: Riding shotgun with a nine-horse ...

here we are, falling apart. apart from each other, ourselves. your eyes are holes, begging me - daring me? - we can't hold on (i can't let go). the romance ...

Aye, well. Criticism appreciated; I like the idea on this one, want to make it as good as possible. SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY MASSACRE Today I am the terrorist of love, ...

Today I met a lady with pupils that bled, Not blood, but space That immeasurable void. They bled out down her face (her pupils that is) Past the gash of ...