Young Writers Society

xD this one is entirely in all unseriousness, but it did take a lot more effort than 'Die Poem' because the rhyming is weird (AABCC)

#15 Writers Anonymous

"And tinkembell, would you like to tell everyone about you?"
No. I do not care for such stupidity, however, it's something I'll look into.
"Well, um, my name is tinkembell, and I-"
"Hello tinkembell," they chorus as I sink into my seat,
Oh I want to die...

This is Writers Anonymous. According to them I have a problem,
they veiw my addiction to writing, the same as you would a cannibal possum.
They say I write too much, that I need to get a life.
Well thanks WA, that's very insightful information,
but I see writing as written passion, not a dedication.

"Well, I guess you could say, that I like to write, there's nothing wrong with that, is there?
Why create this group? What crime is that of a writer?" I ask, wishing I was the cat, and they a small rat.
People begin to stir, agreeing with my words; "Yeah! Writing is a craft, not a... a-a bad habit!"
"Now, now everybody, remember the mantra, my pen is broken, my paper torn, I will not write!"
they calmed again, and I scratched the shiny orange chair, making a high pitched noise. I will write, even if it means a fight.

Hang on, they can't make me stop...
A grin spreads across my face, as I watch the penny drop.
I take out my trusty notebook, and scrawl in great big letters:
THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!!
I hold it up proudly, for everyone to see,

And then I run. Run like the wind.*

*saying that, the wind doesn't have legs, so I would be, um, unmoving. Scratch that, I just ran really fast, okay?



Fifteen feels like such a cool number, it feels like I'm halfway through, even though I can't won't make 30, and I'm aiming for twenty...

~Tinkem

^_^ According to my parents, around 80% of my poems are depressing...

#16 Covered in Pools of Ink, and Washed with Salty Tears

Torn and scattered pages, ashes of the living story.
Fragile porcelain arms, marked with pools of seeping ink.

Long forgotten words, illuminated by the waning moon,
singed hand-made paper, mourning in the gloom.

The dusty typewriter, holding unwritten ideas,
bows his head in sorrow, and weeps his inky tears.

The dog-eared books, ripped apart by vicious hands,
sit in idle passiveness, as bookworms eat away their souls, their imaginairy lands.

For in those fragile arms, covered in pools of ink, and washed with salty tears,
lays the very last, writers heart.

Still faintly it glimmers, pulsing with words and imagination,
yet it is broken, pierced, torn, and shattered, injected with hatred, a cruel contamination.

And now we weep with them,
for today is a day of sorrow,
today is the very day,
that the last true writer,
died.



Well, I can kind of see what they mean... O_o

This, was almost very, VERY bad. I was only just going to make 20, but then stupid me, I HAD TO GO AND HAVE A MIGRAINE! <-- only in all caps to get your attention ^_^.
but still, I managed to do two today, and rescue my NaPoWriMo

#17 Opposites

Soft silence, dancing with thunder,
harsh ignorace, laughing with wonder.
Cool earth, singing with fire,
strong wood, holding hands with broken wire.
Warm sunlight, embracing frozen water,
arrogant prince, in love with the farmer's daughter.

Light and dark, yin and yang, melting into one...

My other one... I'm still a bit :s so, well...

#18 Hidden in Plain Sight

Eyes too blind to spot,
the darting crimson red fox,
in the falling snow.

^_^ 19... I've come so far! Next year I WILL do thirty, I'll make it a new years resolution...

#19 Just Another Face

This silver, blood tainted sword you yield,
slated the mighty dragon, in this here field.

How foolish of you to boast,
mere titles and props, mean nothing at most.

Just because you own this sword - assuming there is some truth in your part,
does it mean you were the one, to plunge it into his scaly heart?

No, it does not.

So, although I would love to become, your fairytale princess, and seal my fate with a gentle kiss,
I shall not, for you are simply another being among millions, and to be honest,

nothing about you stands out, title or not, you're not someone I'll miss...


I feel a strange sense of pride ...

AGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, I'M HYPERVENTALATING CAUSE THIS IS SO EXCITING!!! ^_^

20!

#20 Nice Wolfy

The jet black wolf attacked his prey,
he licked his ravenous lips,
ran a tongue over aching canines,
and howled gleefully at the moon illuminating the way.

All this before,

he wrestled a turnip.


xD ^_^ xD xP *insert every other possible happy face*