http://slow.writerscafe.org/youngwriting19 The original writings of author None en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776106061 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Three things that drive us ever foward, one thing that keeps us from falling apart. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/285373/  Truth.Five letters hold the worldIn paper chains.Folded pages,Machines built from fear,And flesh.Pumping through veins,Like blood,Like poison.The only cureIs imagination?Knowledge.PreventionThrough reality,The realTruth. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/280279/  I feel you behind me, close,Apologies that are so verbose,Yet saying nothing, you conclude,There’s nothing to salvage, nothing to lose. The wind keeps crying, falling rain,Crashes upon me while, in vain,I try to catch you, try to save,What we once had, what we once.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/280278/  I know he wants to kill me,I’ve seen that smile before,Those arms that want to break me,And leave me bleeding on the floor. His eyes they stare right through me,Unblinking in the light,Those eyes, they wont release me,Yet I feel no fright. He stays there i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/271994/  I tried to make my name known,In letters for everyone to see,It was beautiful, so daring,But He couldn’t leave it be. He scrubbed it off, piece by piece,Watching it I felt such pain,Erasing the memory of me,He said ‘don’t do it again’. &l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/271981/  Exile. One word decided the fate of the world. My world. You see, I know that exile would happen, one way or another.I’m not sure why I’m writing this. Nobody to read it. Just the barren earth and the ruins of once great cities. London turned to rubble, New York to dust. Nobody.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/270432/  One, Two, Three, The figures run, Their unfaltering procession, Watching me, Staring at me, Outside the box. I try to break in, Catch them, Those One, Two, Three’s Of normality. I’m Punching.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267405/  You squirm in the darkness Fear the shadows. I dwell within them Watching. You look straight at me, Through me, Towards the light. Blind. I snigger silently, Rustle quietly You shudder, cold, Afraid. You would never guess, Could never see, your death, caused.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267404/ I dreamed of a girl Hair matted and lank, Lying on the pillow As if made of lead. She died with nothing Eyes without emotion Blank to the world. No fighting, just death. There is no escape From the inevitable She knew it was coming, Too scared to be human. As I stare do.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267403/  He caressed her face,Tears like falling diamondsShattering on the ground. He tucked her hair behind her ear,Smiling at the closed eyes,Precious sleep she longed for. He buried his head in her neck,Covering the necklace of bruised skin,Held her close, and danced... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267402/  I see you leave,As you walk out that doorMy mind goes numb,I can’t feel anymore I can see your face,No words come to mind.I can see your calm look,But your words are unkind. You turn on your heel,Look back just once more.A sigh on your lips,Shakes me.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267401/  “So…this is heaven?” Shaun asked, under his breath, into the oblivion. His hand scratched the back of his – still solid – bald head as he looked around at the nothingness. He spun round on the spot, twisting the void around him. Slowly, other solid shapes forme.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267400/  I always thought that music was my thing. My little escape from life. My piano was my everything, my relief from my thoughts, and my escape from reality. Mine. Nobody else could touch it without me feeling sad. Like it was a part of me. My very soul, torn from me and placed.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267399/  In the hospital bed, the new mother slept peacefully, her daughter near her in a small bed. Wisps of pure white hair covered the head of the smiling newborn. Small fists clasped at invisible images above her head, lights shining in unrecognisable shapes. A small giggle echoed through the roo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267398/  Two men sat silently, playing cards in the half-darkness. The storms outside made electricity a sparse resource. Every now and again, the lights would flicker, or lightning sparked outside, causing bursts of light, then more shadow. The only lasting light source was the single, small lantern.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267396/  He stood at the edge of the river, his short red hair flattened against his skull by the torrent of rain. In his hand he twisted a small piece of cloth, blood red and tinged with black. It was soaked through, and the trickle of rain ran from it, a single line of rushing water falling to the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267394/ “Grab a map, and get into your groups. Don’t forget to give us the name of each member and a contact number, in case something happens. It’s a hot day, we don’t want anyone collapsing from heat exhaustion and not being able to tell us.” Mr. Smith grinned in Liam’s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267393/  Thud. Thud. Thud. The ball flew from the young girls hand to the ceiling, hit it, and then fell gracefully back down to smack back into her palm. Small fingers grasped it, and it followed its previous course once again, arching into the air, hitting, and then falling. The girl’s dark, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267390/  Life is difficult, even as a fork. My name is Steven. I am a fork. Stainless steel, born of a lump of metal and some extra ingredients. I’m not purebred steel, and I’m not proud of it, so I’d prefer if you didn’t ask.I have lived a full, but rather unreward.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267387/  Death was having a bad day. He woke up to his neighbour, Lust, listening to ‘The Proclaimers’. He didn’t ask WHY Lust was listening to them, instead he listened to the lyrics.“Well, I would walk 500 milesAnd I would walk 500 moreJust to be the manWho .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267386/  I’m walking. Down this same old road I walk every day of my life. Heading in the same direction, same place, and same time. Just a different reason.I sigh heavily into the cold, pulling my sleeves over my freezing hands. My hair whips past my ears in the wind, a scratching sound in m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/youngwriting19/267382/