Young Writers Society

Running, Running away from something, But I don't know what it is, It seems i'm running from nothing, But I can see it behinde me, As if it wants me ...

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There's no place to start, Excepting the ending maybe, Where you're sure to feel the impact. There's no one to talk to, Except the tombstone maybe, But you wouldn't get ...

To My Darling Muse Flame, my tormentor, stalker, taunter, You are just out of reach, Stretched and jeering face, I see you in the shadows, I see you in my ...

Ok, this isn't finished, it's just a tiny bit of what I'm working to be a novel. I havn't had time to edit it myself. I don't mind, but rather ...

Random name... I had to do this for school, really is not my best, just okay. I thought it lacked depth and all that great stuff..lol.. THis was my first ...

I've got part of a story going that I need some critiques on...only problem, it's a sequel, but I completely HATE the first book so yeah. I'd need to do ...

This is my 3rd peace of the Rachel, I hope you like it. The first one is called 'Rachel: Shaking' and the 2nd one is 'Rachel: Dreaming'. Please comment on ...

A/N: Not exactly a fantasy story, but it does touch on fantasy themes. "And some day we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection. The Lovers, the Dreamers, and me," I sing ...

Just a little something that I wrote in German class when we were doing poetry. The translation is at the bottom but you should try reading the German first even ...

The last few days have been a blur Of wine-soaked dreams, Of touches in the haze of drunkenness, A conversation where the last few words were whispered Where my fumbling ...

Something inside me is telling me to watch those clouds, I don’t know why but I do it. I walk over to the dusty window and peer out into the ...

smiling is the world's language, expressive joy and happiness. when you look at me, do you see the same ecstasy or a sad masquerade, a powerful distraction so nobody notices ...

she wears her blood like peach juice on her white sleeve, like the soft sponge of baby skin, creased like melting snow. i wear my blood like beetroot on my ...

I couldn't think of another title, so, that's why it's called Tickle-Me Elmos. Her scuffed black Adidas, inclosing numb feet, The obtrusive blue apron tied tightly around her waste. Her ...