YWP Content Published in Newspapers



Young Writers Project is most grateful to its eight newspaper partners who publish your work on a regular basis. Weekly: Burlington Free Press and The Valley News. Monthly: St. Albans Messenger, Brattleboro Reformer, Rutland Herald (and Reader), Times Argus (and Extra), Bradford Journal Opinion and Charlotte News.

The papers have a combined circulation of nearly 75,000 and the papers are read by well over 150,000 people.

YWP staff, volunteers and Community Leaders from this site help select work.  If you'd like to help with this process, contact Susan Reid.




 


 
May 30
Maisie N's picture

A Walk in the Graveyard

You might be gone
But I still remember the words you spoke.
Your letters might be lost
But I still remember the things you wrote.
I haven't heard your voice in a while
But I still remember the stories you told.
And I havent been there in forever
But I still remember the house you sold.
The songs you sang, the hands you held.
All the places that you went,
These are the things I hold close to my heart.
These are the things I will never forget.

So here I have found my grandmother today
In every book and cloud and dream.
Because you are more than just this headstone.
You are in every part of me.
You are in the little bits that make me strange.
You are the laughing summer memories.
And in the effort I'm giving when everyone watches
As I swim against the stream.
The way I cry when the ending's real.
You're in the way I smile and the way I feel.
Apr 13
s.hanzas16's picture

I awoke


I awoke to the sound of something banging,

The sound just kept on changing.

First it sounded like a knock,

Then it changed to the tick of a clock,

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock.

The sound never stopped.

Something may have popped,

So I cocked my head,

and heard something drop.

 
Jan 29
Kalan_Kenyon's picture

Life Is Short

Life is short
Life's not long
You are where
You Belong
Try you
Best you
Will succeed
It is in your
Destiny
You will fail
And you will
Win
Don't let
Yourself go
Down in a pit
People will
Judge and 
People will
Hate
You just 
Gotta
Keep your
Life straight
Life is short
Definitely not
Long you

Are excatly
Where you 
Belong
 
Kalan Kenyon

 
Nov 02
poem 0 comments challenge: General

Blue Eyes

    My mother warned me about the drugs on the street
    But not about the ones with blue eyes and a heartbeat
    Not about the ones with clean brown hair and sweet smiles
    Not about the ones who you pass in the grocery store aisles 
    Not about the ones who smell like rain and feel like silver
    Not about the ones with warm hands free of slivers 
    Not about the ones who call your name from across the hall
    Not about the ones without a care at all
    
 
Sep 14
In-the-woods's picture

In The Woods



In the woods
I can think of the
Rivers made of diamonds and ice,
Trees with the blossoming buds and dancing birds,
Pearl clouds of smoke,
Valleys of green, rainbows of flowers,
Emerald dragonflies skipping in the air
above the deep olive pond as the cat tails sway and murmur,
But I don't think of that.
I think of the dark thunder clouds that only rain on me,
the shadows that watch as I pass.
Glowing eyes in the white and purple fog that creeps
in
around
me.
Sep 09

answers


I am a resounding "yes!"
echoing in the ears of the grass
swimming through the sky
hopping in synchronization with the robin,
not answering anything in particular
just the question:
life?

I am a quiet "no comment,"
a nonsensical nothing,
an anti-answer
in reply to the question:
existence?

I am a firm "no."
arguing against the inevitable statement:
death.
Sep 09

Escape

Aug 18
Shadowboxer's picture

To Kill a Changed Man

Well, I’m sure you’re expecting me to say something rather significant right about now. Something filled with sorrow, or fury, or perhaps the dull wit you’ve known me for.  However, let me tell you that what I have to say is not going to change anything, as that is not the nature of something as seemingly capricious as this.  So do not get excited, spiteful, or empathetically tearful.  I will merely tell you of the tenuous stretch between the life and death of a man; the hope and despair of someone that got lost along the way of something quite easy to follow. 

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