Young Writers Society


Where the Mullein Grows

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Where the Mullein Grows

I walked outside to see the woods today,
Through un-shoveled paths of virgin snow,
And reached a creek across which there lay
An ice-bridge to where the mullein grows.

Ah! Where the mullein grows—or should I say grew?
For now it is brown, and crumbles to dust
When I clasp my hand around the stem—like you
Gently held mine—now a withered husk.

Just months prior it stood verdant and proud,
When I showed you the leaves of velvet,
And brewed you tea: medicine to uncloud
The approaching thunderstorm of regret

Life comes in cycles that vary with time:
One day we’ll exchange our mullein for pine,
Until then I’d just like for you to know
It isn’t your touch, but the seeds that you sow.
Clementine: This is it, Joel. It’s going to be gone soon.
Joel: I know.
Clementine: What do we do?
Joel: Enjoy it.”
-Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-




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First of all I love this poem! Good work.

Until then I’d just like for you to know
It isn’t your touch, but the seeds that you sow.

Love this ending very touching.

When I clasp my hand around the stem—like you
Gently held mine—now a withered husk.

Also love this part how it connects with the previous bit about the stem with the hand. Very clever!

Love this poem.
Keep writing!
A hero isn’t defined by winning. Loads of heroes die in the effort. Most of them never get any recognition. No, a hero is just somebody who does the right thing when it would be far, far easier to do nothing.


~Previously SweetMoments




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I absolutely loved your metaphor. Also, you have a very interesting vocabulary, the word choices were great.
Your art is beautiful, I could practically paint with those words.




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Hello there :)

Hmm...now this is what I'm talking about. You are really good, I loved this. I loved how everything meshes together and the general flow of you ideas. The first two lines of the first stanza were just divine, the way they rolled off the tongue,
I walked outside to see the woods today,
Through un-shoveled paths of virgin snow


Honestly, this is by far the best piece I've seen so far today.
Good job! ;)
The best is what you make it!

...eh, need a review? Click me!




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Hey Ice,

This was really nice. I have a few questions and little bits I'm going to pick out but only to understand better. I know that these things are probably what you were referring to in your PM but in case they're not I thought I'd ask =)

When I clasp my hand around the stem—like you
Gently held mine—now a withered husk.


I think it's just the punctuation of these two lines that throw me, but I'm wondering what you are trying to say in this stanza.

Just months prior it stood verdant and proud,
When I showed you the leaves of velvet,


Love it!

And brewed you tea: medicine to uncloud
The approaching thunderstorm of regret


Here, are you trying to kind of say you did something to clear away the regret you think she will feel before it's arrived? I don't think that makes sense. If not, let me know.

It isn’t your touch, but the seeds that you sow.


Here I feel like the message you are sending changes completely. Through out the rest of it you're talking about a failed relationship and remembering it and here it's as if you go from that to telling the girl that it isn't her touch but what she leaves behind. Can you explain this a little bit to me?

I know I'm nit picking, sorry. This was bloody brilliant though (as usual). As always let me know if you post anything new!

BeckFletch. xx
'The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, The more I will respect myself' - Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë.



Should we not walk? On our feet? The ones I now have again? I do like my feet. They are befittingly perambulatory.
— Pattern (Rhythm of War by Brandon Sanderson)