Young Writers Society

This story has some language that may be not be aproprate for 13 and younger. Will you recognize me?Call my name or walk on byRain keeps falling, rain keeps fallingDown, ...

Okay, I did this in a bit of a rush so go easy on me... it sounds better if you say it aloud though. Why the sorrow, why the pain? ...

There is no dialog in here, it varies between first and thrd, and may be slightly confusingm but bear with me, tell me what you think. I sat there, quietly, ...

I started to read this on a train station in Leeds, I glanced at the cover and sighed. Hemingway. I read the Fisherman and the Sea a few years ago, ...

This story contains strong sexual language and innuendo. It would probably be rated R, but all things considered its pretty innocent. Doki-doki Cassidy Timberland - to me, the name said ...

Ok, writing poems is not my strong point, I'm not that good at them but I want to improve, so feel free to voice any suggestions about this poem. War ...

Ok, this is kindof a random short story, I wrote it when I was back at school and have improved it slightly now but it's still kinda weird and a ...

Wait a sec - was this it? I drift away through honey There is music in my ears Smiles plastered on a heart That used to wear my tears I’m ...

Note: This story may contain inappropiate language for children under the age of 13. Parental supervision is suggested! - Nate This story is an assignment. it was given to me ...

Nervous and tense outside.But inside there is peace,An oasis of hope for a thirsty soul.Like a butterfly suspended on a petal.Outside, eyes pricked for any sign of danger.But inside, peaceful ...

You. You planted the ember of white-hot anger inside me. You fanned it to life, Feeding it with an almost imperceptible breeze. Slowly, the fire grew. Now it is a ...

I drifted deeper and deeper into my soul. Folds of it swept over me, Rocking me softly to sleep. As I loitered on the edge of consciousness, I thought I ...

I was experimenting with structure here, and the result was something very...odd. Unfortunately the forum wont let me post it like it's intended to be written - it reads better ...

I wrote this at midnight last night, after one of those thoughts that sometimes resolves itself into a poem around the witching hour. Its not brilliant, but I like the ...

No One Is a nobody But not everyone Is a somebody. And I dedicate this poem, For the ones who killed, At Columbine High School.