Young Writers Society

A pencil, pen, eraser,
Sitting on the desk.
Waiting, watching, as they are chosen.

A blank page,
Yearning to be full
Of beautiful words

A new idea,
Maybe one rediscovered,
Fills your mind as you sit.

Staring at the blank page,
A pencil in your hand,
You are ready to write.

Here comes the beautiful villain,
And the gruesome hero,
About to fight for a single wish.

The villain, a wish to be happy.
The hero, a wish to be handsome.
When in his heart, the hero is kind.

It all begins in a single stroke
Of a pen.
That's how it also ends.

In the end, the villain is dead,
While the hero sits and regrets his mistake
That he made for his new found beauty.

For beauty comes with a price.
The price of happiness
That turns the kindest hearts black.

Jealousy, a horror
Most find within their hearts. If
You have this, just run.

One foot forward,
The other back,
Let's take two steps
To start the day.

One heart pumps,
The other fails,
Let's feel the heart beat
To start the day.

One pencil writes,
The other finishes,
Let's write the story
To start the day.

A smile on one face,
A frown on the other,
Let's smile at least once
To start the day.

One step, two steps, three.
One beat, two beats, three.
One pencil, two pencils, three.
Walk forward, breathe, and write to start the day.

A day walking,
With your heart beating,
And your pencil writing,
Is another day started.

The mirror:
Shows perfection.
A beautiful image
That seems too good to be true.

The camera:
Shows flaws.
A image of ugliness
That hurts in more ways than one.

The mirror:
Shows the truth.
How we really look inside
Even if no others can see it.

The camera:
Shows lies.
How everyone else sees yourself
Even though it's not the real you.