Young Writers Society

Chapter: 7 “Hold you in my arms, I just wanted to hold” (Muse) I didn't know what to say or how to react to what Nicholas had just said to ...

Wasting, lonely, sideways drooping head. Trying to see the world in my way, sliding slow beneath my grasp. Sitting idly when my curtains stop rustling and mice never stay for ...

I stand in woods Watching the full-moon There are no stars in the sky The moon weeps for her friends absence She calls for them Still no stars She calls ...

The assassin crouched in a field where the moon was bright and wolves cried in the distance. Then a hot guy walked by and he was like, "OMG! Can I ...

I had to read Lord of the Flies for English class and I absolutely hated it. It was completely disturbing and waaaay too graphic. Although, I did like the idea ...

When You Return My Love I won’t say if you do, or I hope you will I can feel it in heart that beats faster just for you I know ...

True Love, You'll Always Find It What if he pretended to love you? He held you like you were everything He never let anything or anyone hurt you What if ...

She watched as the world fell down around her. Well, not the world, but the buildings surrounding her. It instilled a sense of joy in her. She knew that the ...

The faucets of this glass which always lie true are engraved with words - Mother, I love you. Your voice echoes long in this hollow domain: "Tha needs teh get ...

This is the only thing I've written recently that I've taken semi-seriously so some comments would be nice. Sorry it's a bit weird and it's only called "Roy" because I ...

Cinnamon. That was what I smelled when I entered the shop. Spicy and exotic, the scent always took me back to my childhood. My father was a merchant in the ...

The wire breaks The window shakes The people hurry out The composer starts to shout The others look on with disdain as if the pianosist caused them pain the pianoist ...

happyness is in youre frame of mind, if you put youre trust in it it forms a bind, a bind that grows all to fast with time, it will destroy ...

Mother is downstairs, Hesitant fingers asking The concertina to sing In the dimly lit kitchen. It speaks slowly, new life Taken into her arms Long-barren of child. Their growth intertwines. ...

[in the process of editing, please ignore, thanks]