by Lev P What a waste of a warm house, of pine trees of dandelions, of a peaceful pond What a waste of love letters, a light breeze- of...

By Amanda R I shall never forget, the stories I've been told The ones about the night, chambers, and strife The abyss and shallowness...

Anonymous The beginning of the end is never discernible to the person who doesn’t want it to end in the first place The place where we...

By Eros B I think it's for the short boys I think it's for the younger sisters I think it's for the playground knees and the concrete...

By Lev P It is 60 degrees outside this morning, but it is cold. I work out, out of breath, but I am shivering. The air is nowhere near...

By Emily B Cloud Fever, stuck like cotton in my head, like piles of dandelions on a summers end. Paler than the moon, quieter too. When...

By Charlie Z If I was a slice of pie I’d be just that a slice You had my brothers and sisters at a family dinner But left me without...

By Kat W I’ll never get to come home, so I’ll have to make one of myself. They’ve woven minerals into the cold Connecticut grass, rich in...

Anonymous New York City A city of crowded busses and busy subways Yellow taxis and the people who drive them Tourists and scams A...