Young Writers Society

Here I am, Standing at your doorstep wishng the rose in my hand hadn't died petal by petal each one falls down as if its a cloud in the sky ...

shadowed nights and slicing moonbeams opposite the scintillating sun a kalaidescope of yawning abysses and crystal caverns my heart skips beats as i recover beautiful memories that will again be ...

I remember we were in the movie theaters, my whole family and I. I remember I was sitting on my moms lap when it happened. I remember the 9 gun ...

Before I put down my poem I want you to know that this is not the way I usually write poems and this was a just an experiment...and kind of ...

Don’t. Handing me your plastic smiles, Don’t you have the decency to at least put them on a silver platter first? I know you have many to spare. Won’t. Showing ...

“Hand me a glass of wine, my dear,” The scales on your wrists escape me. Ripple with me above the ground. How is it my head is as smoggy as ...

The young puppy stepped into the morning sun. His bright green eyes blinked when the sunlight shone on his black muzzle. He turned back into his dark cave. He trotted ...

She curled up at his feet, weeping. ''Why do you want to do this? Have I done something wrong?'' He stepped back from her, showing disgust at her tears.''What have ...

You'll cry, you'll weep, you'll bawl in shame. When your school status falls, and theres nothing to blame. But You You say your friends are no longer your friends. And ...

I miss the times when I had friends and could laugh at anything without caring I miss my life before this change And I miss talking to my "friends" And ...

This is a free write I did last night How can I ever love you? With every selfish action that has hurt in so many ways. You never truly listen ...

we go for a walk on an empty night. i meet him under an oak tree. the leaves are dying under a golden light. we sit on a cold brick ...

There's a place where all My toughts flow A Place where all My feelings manage to go A Waistland deserted and all Alone A Waistland cold and all of My ...

It is a horrible place, this old house. The floors are soaked with rain and faeces, the windows are either dangerous jagged shards or filthy with god-knows-what. The boys have ...

Now that Ieatworms has vacated the Society, I can post all my poems I've written about how terrible she made me feel. This is the most recent. The first time, ...