Young Writers Society

H-hi.
Oh. You didn't hear me?
HI. BETTER NOW? TOO LOUD?
Sorry...
I've already messed up, haven't I?
Just get a grip on yourself, girl!
Right. Ok.
Welcome!!!
I hope you have a great time here!
Feel free to leave some comments!
I'll be posting as soon as NaPoWriMo Begins!

Wind blows

Wind blows,
Species shows,
Stars, already shining.
Flowers bloom,
Shops boom,
The light, almost blinding.
Everyone can try,
Everyone can die,
But as long"Hello?"
"You there?"
"H-hello?"
"H3ll0?"
"43110?"
Err
"Oh, I'm sorry! I had no idea
The poem was broken
That badly!
Let me fix thi-err
as you continue living,
You don't ever have to say goodbye.

Hope you enjoyed my poem! It was, err, very freeform.

Nice. I really like the humor in here. <3 It's great!

Thank you!!! <3

Sleep

I don't want to sleep
Even if I'm tired,
For my mind is
Racing still.
I look around,
And see all the things
I should have been doing,
Instead of writing.
But writing is a refuge
And it's worth staying up
If you're having
Fun.
Therefore I stay up
Because I want
To continue writing
Forevermore.
My health is hurting,
But I don't really care,
'Cause my heart is still beating
For writing, my love.
And nothing can stop me
For in my head, I know:
The further I go
The harder it is to stop.
But what is so bad about writing?

The Prancing Lion

Sitting in a church,
full of music,
full of sound,
my eyes drift to the instruments.
I see a beautiful contrabass,
with a lion carved on top.
As my imagination starts,
I follow it.
The whole church is empty,
it's an alternate universe, I know,
but the music is still playing,
and the lion is there, too.
The lion begins prancing,
innocent and free,
as he has just been called into existence,
a real lion.
Then the lion proceeds to dance:
Pirouettes, jumps,
running around the room.
When he stops, it's like a dream.
He glances at me, but quickly looks away,
for he has just discovered something else.
A piece of our religion.
He looks curious as he watches the paintings,
nearly all he sees is blood and mankind,
but also a shadow
of light.
The lion turns and smiles,
and is beginning to speak,
when something shakes me,
and the concert is finished.


This is literally inspired from going to church to hear my sister sing. I had to sit through 36 songs with the hope of a break, only to discover that it was an ARTISTIC line in the program, ergo: No break. My imagination, as usual, was nagging me to let it through. I did. And I spotted a carved lion on the contrabass. It was really well made.

Jacket

My jacket,
my jacket,
keeping my memories in the pockets.
My jacket,
my jacket,
keeping me warm.
It's nice and blue,
like my relationship with you,
which even we don't understand.
My jacket
my jacket,
discovering old, crumpled memories in the pockets.
My jacket,
my jacket,
too thin to keep the cold out.
It's ugly and faded,
like my relationship with you,
which even we don't understand.
My jacket,
my jacket,
memories long destroyed.
My jacket,
my jacket,
no weather to protect me from.
It's too small and nearly gone,
like my relationship with... Someone.
I don't understand?
Jacket,
jacket?
What's that, and what's memories?
Jacket,
jacket,
What's warmth, and what's cold?
It's seems to have disappeared, gone,
Like... A relationship?
What is understanding?
~~~
What am I?
What am I saying?
What am I doing?
What?