Young Writers Society

Will

My friends
I stand in the shadow of the hour
On this glorious day
And I say

May every hand you hold
Be that of one you love
May every hug you give
Be to a good friend

Because my friends
As I speak beneath this shadow
I pray you will be enlightened
With the power of a human's love

Love of a mother and child
Love of two friends
Love of a boy and a girl
Love of two brothers

It always depends where you stand
Beneath the gushing fury of eternal love
Or in the arms of a parent and guardian
But I shall always praise the pink rush each time I blink in fear

When I say my last goodbyes
Under the shadow of death
When I profess every sin, when I profess every love
So you know when I shut my eyes I will be resurrected in your heart

Viewer Subjectivity Is/Isn't Concrete Reality

The flickering orange glow of candles wafts through the room and I wonder if every emotion I ever felt was real or not.

I wondered whether every hatred, every love, every grievance, every sadness was just an illustrious illusion in my head.

I snuff out the candelabra and wonder if the burning pain is real or just a sudden rush to my brain when every other sense is overwhelmed.

I sit in silence and wonder if the tears in my crying are even worth it or if they're just buckets of salt in the end.

In every end when I stared at his dismembered head, her hanging body, his gentle lips, idolizing the with faith they would pass on.

Idolizing them like a golden lamb gleaming in the sunlight like the illuminated shadow of our god that I've always doubted.

That I've thought of just a face for a feeling that seems to run inside but never really had because humans have no feeling.

Because humans aren't real, you're just a figment of your imagination.

Drifting in empty space that has never been there, hoping I'm dreaming or this is just a video game.

Wondering if reality and everything exists in a parallel universe that doesn't exist in viewer subjectivity but is so true in concrete reality.

Telling every soul in the room I hope they understand, telling every person in the room we've all gone crazy.

Monkeys On The Stairs

Five monkeys downstairs
One climbed the stairs
He climbed higher and higher to Mommy on the bed
But he fell on his head

Four monkeys downstairs
One climbed the stairs
She climbed higher and higher to Mommy on the bed
But she fell on her head

Three monkeys downstairs
One climbed the stairs
He climbed higher and higher to Mommy on the bed
But he fell on his head

Two monkeys downstairs
One climbed the stairs
She climbed higher and higher to Mommy on the bed
But she fell on her head

One monkey downstairs
One climbed the stairs
He climbed higher and higher to Mommy on the bed
But he fell on his head

No more monkeys downstairs

Everything Destoys Me

Every word I write catches alight
What sight
To behold on a Summer's night
When everything is right
When the stars shine bright
In an explosion of light
A chaos of might
When every word I write catches a light

Blow

I sing to the sea
Upon a gentle whisper
Listen to the breeze

Wish

I always marvel
At Newcastle when it snows
When it's freezing cold

Not Yours

The jet was a solid column
A pillar of brown mud and yellow gravel
That beat against the hull with an exploding roar
Like a monstrous octopus
Gathering weight and strength by the second
As I fight the maelstrom of murder
That every word he had ever said had caused
When I was treated like a pig
When I was treated as if worthless
Just because I wasn't his daughter

Jaguar

The pearl-grey Jaguar
Sat waiting in the parking lot
Washed and brushed as if new
Roaring for you
Licking a swollen paw
Lying down with impeccable patience
Too lazy to start
Lulled to sleep
Engine grating like the cat's grunting
Car chirruping as the cat called out in shock
Surprised to be tickled
Surprised to ever have its silver key turned
Standing once again on its four legs
Roaring like a lion
Roaring like a jaguar
And running off into the darkness

Dyspraxia

The children stood in a straight line
Like a row of bedraggled little brown sparrows perched on a fence
And stepped into the class without inethuasism
Saddened to be torn from the playground
Unhappy to have to listen
Not wanting to listen
Not wanting to count to
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Altogether and then go further till they reached
91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100
Forced to paint with their fingers
But one wouldn't
One just cried
And tried to run away
But the teachers made him stay
They made him try and write his name
C A R L I
He wrote in rough letters
Imitating his mom's nickname
The teacher unaware called him stupid in her mind
And forced his hands into the paint so the layers crumpled into brown
Attacking him with the gooey substance
He cried and screamed
And threw up because he couldn't bear it
And they got angry at him

Checker

Count every line twice
Check every word till perfect
Cut out the nonsense

Impervious

Sicker than mother
Sick I threw up at Ripple
Cough, sneeze, don't believe

Guardian

When you are hopeless
When your heart is in pieces
I am always here

He Watches Over Me

The guardian angel
Looks over me
With a watchful gaze
That penetrates my brain
That reads my thoughts
That reads me of good and bad
And the person I strive to be
Just talking to myself crazily
The only one that hears him talk to me

Your Voice

Honestly, your voice
Hurt all of me, every word
Is a pain to hear
Honestly, your voice is sad
And every word is ugly