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.


Jun 11

It Came

You were a pile of broken bones,
desperately crying for someone,
to put you back together.

You were a fly caught in a web,
trying to flee the black widow,
but she came one night.

You were a ghost in a window,
screaming for those inside to see,
but you were long gone.

You were a torn up photograph,
waiting for someone to repair you,
but you were beyond repair.

I was a farmer with the tools,
to revive your field of hopeless death,
I planted more and more.

No matter what I did to help,
it was never enough to save you.
I never thought you would do it,

but you threw away your bones,
let the black widow come,
broke through the window,
and set your image aflame.

Death is a calling,
and it came.
Jun 11

A Poem For The Girl Who Needs It

This poem is for the girl needs it.
To the girl who cries at night,
whispering her sorrows to the stars;
stitching a new smile for the next day.
Your bravery deserves a medal.

This poem is for the girl who feels numb.
To the girl who hurts to feel,
depression and hopelessness weighing her down;
making her think, "why even bother?"
You are strong, and I believe these moments pass
like each rippling wave.

for each girl who needs this,
you are important,
you are loved
you are not alone.
Jun 10

2:30am New York City

You like the way he wakes up.

Not at all 
and all at once.

bolt upright 
down the stairs 
out the door

Stars are like Suns 
when they fall to Earth.

He collides
and slips back to sleep.  

Jun 08
Lyra's picture

A lesson of the heart

A lesson that many miss out on, but are always hurt by, is the lesson that your heart is never your own.  From birth, your heart is taken by those who show you love and compassion, and you may never regain it. Hidden behind a glass wall, your heart sits awaiting a gentle hand accompanied by soft words. As you go through life, you allow others near your heart, and you can only sit and watch as they either care for your heart or hurt it in one way or another. The key of trust is given to those you care for, but when betrayed by that trust, your heart grows more and more callused. More and more scar tissue builds up with each stab and tear, causing the soft words and gentle hands of those who truly care to be unable to reach it. Soon enough, you give a key to some, but those few who enter and closely watched, and lashed out on when touching your heart.
Jun 08


My teacher thinks I'm strange
I love snow the way
some people love sun.

Snow feels good the way
icy lemonade in August
feels good.

Snow feels good the way
freshly brushed teeth
feel good.

Snow feels good the way
clean sheets just off the line
feel good.

Snow feels good the way
a never read before book
feels good.

Snow feels good the way
fun and happiness
feels good.
Jun 05

I Bought A Life

I bought a life online,
It shipped in two days,
I bought happiness from a doctor,
In the form of orange bottles,
I bought a friend from my mother,
I never see her anyway
And I sold it all to you,
In exchange for a beating. 
Jun 04
MusicLove81's picture

My first Ukulele

"Come on!" Jan yelled.
"Mmmhmmm" I pushed my blonde hair into a tight braid as I always do.
We headed down the street until we reached the park. Jan took a blind fold out of her pocket and carefully tied it over my eyes. "Jan! It's my birthday! Don't suffacate me! I'm not even 11 yet!"
between the bandanna I saw a small shiny grin from Jan's part. We walked down hrough the park until we reached the place. Jan pulled the cloth off and an uncontrolable smile spread across my face. In front of me was a picnic spread and blanket with a ukulele neatly placed in the middle. The uke was neon green (my favorite color) and it had a small yellow bow. "Jan....thank you" 
Jan smiled. We sat down and ate my favorite foods which consisted of Iced tea and fudge pops. I tried to strum my uke and Jan nodded when I got it right (at least she tried to know when it was right). I knew this was a day to remember. The day I got my first ukulele.
Jun 04
poem 3 comments challenge: General
haileychase's picture

If I Die In A School Shooting

​If I die in a school shooting,
politicize my death.
Fight for our safety,
turn my funeral into a protest.

If I die in a school shooting,
I will never play sports again.
My goals, my hopes, my dreams,
will all come to an end.

If I die in a school shooting,
battle until students and teachers are safe.
Don't let my death become a statistic,
help kids go to school unafraid.

If I die in a school shooting,
I will never become a doctor.
I will never graduate high school,
and my parents will no longer have a daughter.

If I die in a school shooting,
my little brother will become an only child.
Fight for all the lost lives,
and make change be required.

If I die in a school shooting,
turn my ashes into a book.
And write the story
of how my life should have looked.

If I die in a school shooting,
deliver my heart to the NRA
Jun 03

Child Delivery Service

Me and my wife are talking about having kids
but child birth is just so taxing
and the world is too overpopulated
this planet doesn’t need anymore humans
so we thought that a robot child would be better.
Scrolling through new products on amazon
there are many different choices
each one comes with a variety of interesting features
they are quite expensive
but I have a gift card, so it shouldn’t be too bad.
I made my choice, a girl droid, about 11 years old
it comes with an artificial memory chip
it won’t even know it’s a robot
so it will adjust to our new family very quickly.
In a couple weeks the parts will show up in the mail.
We’ll have to put it together ourselves.
Worth the effort, a perfect replica
It’ll be better than a real child.
Having kids is such a tiring commitment
but when you get tired of a robot kid,
you can just turn it off.
Doesn’t have to be fed either
May 30
poem 0 comments challenge: General

Too Soon

the last darkness
you left
too soon,
like the moon
behind a cloud.