Young Writers Society

Heart beats high, Chest overflowed with ungracious grief , Sweat and tears rolling down the temple, Thoughts rioting as if war has started already, No matter the sky is quiescent ...

Somewhere in the sunshine A little girl sits, waiting And somewhere in the rain A mother cries out, praying Somewhere in the darkness A father is crying And somewhere in ...

Okay, I know that it has been a long time since I posted a piece from this story, but I think I have reconsidered writing it, so hopefully you all ...

To be honest, I don't particularly care for it. Definitely not my best work. __________________________________________ He took her into his arms, staring into her light, almond shaped eyes, envelopin

The party goes on there's a full club just having fun things sore through the air suddenly, your muscles freeze when you hear glass shatter the is music obnoxiously loud ...

With this chapter it may seem like this belongs in a different section, but I assure whomever reads this that this growth in a relationship is only a small piece ...

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We meet again, my silvery, salty friend. The cold, dark velvet folds rolling in, leaning away from the pink skies and tinged clouds of dusk, gazing longingly toward the empty ...

Sweat poured off his head as he ran, mouth open, panting from the physical exhaustion that was beginning to settle in. The muscles in his legs began to cramp after ...

There must be more to life than this: a winter wind and withered kiss upon these frozen, sun-parched lips; just orange peel and apple pips. We're living on remains of ...

I'd like some feedback . . . I'm submitting this someplace if you think it's good enough. Unbroken Closed bluebells, holding morning’s promise. Dawn like the sea and shore torn ...

This is just a poem that I threw together one night in about 3 minutes (and I'm not exactly the best at poetry either). It's kind of depressing, I know. ...

A Different Kind of Hurt My father is not the worst in the world. He does not beat me: He does not yell at me. He would console me if ...

Over the years, whenever I have tried to recall my mother in my mind, the image has always been the same. I see her standing in the kitchen wearing an ...

This is the first part of a short story (about the character behind my username ). I -really- need help with the first paragraph in particular. Hardcore critiques would be ...