Young Writers Society

this is to go with my other story which until this point has been titled: new project, title pending but now has a name: Firséd. This is for Areida because ...

I miss you when I watch you walk out the door You are the one I love and the one I adore, The warm smile on your friendly face Shows ...

Take a look in my mind, be surprised of what you will find. Take a step forward, and walk towards My thoughts and feelings combined with the truth, my thoughts ...

I was walking down Fay avenue one Halloween night I turned up a path to the front door of a house I pushed the doorbell, in hope of an answer ...

I awoke to the normal aroma of fresh coffee and toasting blueberry english muffins. I lay in bed, hungry. My desire to get up was strong but not strong enough. ...

Whooo! Finally typed it all up. This is quite a long chapter, it is 7 pages exact on Word in 10pt font, I even broke up the chapter. So here ...

I woke up with a start and was astonished to find the gallery so quite and almost dark. From the wall in front of me the portrait of an old ...

Free muffins to anyone that can guess the subject. She's His Birth Stone They met in passing, in a line where crucifixes choked the streets, and shot jolts at the ...

Right... this needs a lot of work. Title needs a change, plot needs to make sense, details need to be added... I wrote this for school ['creative' writing for composition] ...

she was born in august an empty month, summer fleeting with the moon. she thought blood was prettier splattered on the stained- glass that was his church, but her god ...

I have no idea if anybody will remember this... or if it has been posted, but me and a pal wrote this... a long time ago. Enjoy. Sorrow, depressed, lifeless, ...

Social Omnipotence Love and hate encased in one note, recycled, but the memory of the last one erased. They fall like hopes, crippled with granduer, parallel veins, staves for the ...

An innocent Little Girl, Big green eyes and Blonde curls, Dancing in the living room, Giggles and twirls. A sweet little lady, Pig tails and fake pearls. Dancing on the ...

>.> I Cannot write poetry, but I Did write this piece, long time ago... so lame.. The wind howls through the trees A forboding aura hovers around the darkened forest ...

White shirt is dirty Black pants don't fit anymore I wait for laundry