Young Writers Society

my heart pulses. in tune with the world(s) and their silent stories. my soul throbs, wrung with the emotion of a million men. characters. I hear the whispers of untold ...

[color=red] My parents started to cry as shabby camper van drove off. i turn and i saw the hospice it looked cold but it actually wasn't. the only reason i ...

Accelerando slows to Dolce, Harmonies blend in dancing rivers Notes swirl perfectly in rhythm, Then, in back, a drum beat pounds. Allegro, crescendo, forte, scherzo, Eighth notes flicker ‘round each

These three are technically separate poems, but they have a single inspiration and were written within minutes of each other. Why separate triplets? Monotony, The metronomes rhythm continues, No cresc

Has anyone read Catalyst by Laurie Halse Anderson? It's definitely one of my all-time favorite books. Any other thoughts on it?

This post has been temporarily removed.

Please don't read this without listening to this song either before or after. Music is my main inspiration, and this song is where this scene originated from, particularly the last ...

there were 3 young children and one day there mother died and the father not being able to care for the children married another woman who despised children. The woman ...

I put the rating at PG for some violence. I'm so used to game ratings, now! It would probably be T for violence at that one. This is my NaNo, ...

I feel kinda bad about posting this because i haven't review in a long time... Oopsy... Ah well, I'll try harder now. Anyway, the poem: Riding shotgun with a nine-horse ...

here we are, falling apart. apart from each other, ourselves. your eyes are holes, begging me - daring me? - we can't hold on (i can't let go). the romance ...

Aye, well. Criticism appreciated; I like the idea on this one, want to make it as good as possible. SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY MASSACRE Today I am the terrorist of love, ...

A car pulled up to a new house in Chicago. A family of five came out of the van. It was a father, mother, older boy, another boy and a ...

Today I met a lady with pupils that bled, Not blood, but space That immeasurable void. They bled out down her face (her pupils that is) Past the gash of ...

Eighteen Years Ago In the small town of Camilla, a stranger named Christian scurries down the street which smelled of fresh rain. He looks for the right house, while trying ...