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.


Feb 16
Lilliannn's picture


        The footsteps seem to lead nowhere. They begin in the woods. Broken sticks, misplaced leaves, bushes trampled. After a while, I realize I have no clue as to where I am, and all I can hear is my damp jeans rubbing together. I look around, more clueless than ever. I decide to continue following the footsteps since I have no other ideas on where to go. After a while, I hear the sound of cars. I soon found myself on a street that I know well. In fact, it is my street.
Feb 15

Nothing to Say

The morning was crisp and cold. Fall had just begun. Laura was bundled tightly in her sweater. Her ears were numb and cold, but the rest of her was cozy. She carried a suitcase, pressed tightly against her chest. She could hear her own heartbeat echoing through the metal clasps. The bus stop was still a couple of blocks away, but the blue line shuttle was leaving in only a couple of minutes, so she decided to cut through an alleyway to get where she was going a bit faster.
Feb 14
poem 0 comments challenge: General


What does it mean to be empty?
It means containing nothing, not filled or occupied. 
Some empty things include;
Everything is always filled with something, right?
What about space? You ask. 
Space is empty of everything. 
That's why it's called space. 
I must have the whole universe in my head, then,
because it always feels empty.
Completely void of anything, 
Except a few tiny things floating around,
Feb 08
poem 0 comments challenge: Forest

The Endless Forest

I go into the forest
The forest thickens
Thickens all around
Around me animals hurry
Hurry in every direction
Every direction is blocked
Blocked with vines and branches
Branches sticking out
Out of many trees
Trees are endlessly tall
Tall yet rising higher
Higher till the sky is gone
Gone from my view
My view is closing
Closing the deeper I go
I go into the forest

Feb 07
Steph_B's picture

Wild And Light(I Could Never Be)

I press my toes into 
The rough carpet of my sisters bedroom floor, 
And let my head knock back against 
The dark wood of her bed frame

Wanna hear what I wrote? She asks me, 
And she so enthusiastic and light 
Already holding her little journal 
Beaten and floral, 
And I know that it is filled with all of her Midnight thoughts,
Because she reads me them often

Of course 
I tell her,
Feb 07
poem 0 comments challenge: Love

Wild Weather

Please don't cry, 
I don't want those tears
to freeze on your face.

I wish I could protect you better,
If I was fully in this place,
If I wasn't so scared
to challenge fury to a race.

But some cloud has taught me 
to drown myself before I cry,
and I've forgotten how not to
look away while saying goodbye. 

I'm sorry if my hugs
come with fists clentched in pain,
and I want you to know,
Feb 05
H20.hollym's picture

A Pane of Magic

I was reading your poem
in study hall today
when I happened to find my gaze
lingering upon the window
where the snow was blowing 
all around while the sun shone through the flakes
and I smiled to myself
because it looked a lot
like stardust.
(then I snapped a picture of it,
but it didn't quite capture the sparkle.)

I wanted to thank you
for sliding a pane of magic
over that window.
Feb 04
poem 1 comment challenge: Forest
joseph.deffner's picture

The Tangled Forest

The dark places where they roam,

The gentle breeze knowing I’m alone.

The little creatures crawl in the night,

Anywhere from tiny to tall.

I am left in these tangled wrestling vines,

Turning me from my straight walking lines.

I shall stay here until my death,

It feels like I'm caught in a net.
Piece by piece I clear my path,

Closer and closer but no nice bath.
Feb 04
sophie.d's picture


It's snowing. 

Large pieces of iridescent glitter
Are being sifted down
Through the woven cap of charcoal and papery clouds.
Powdered sugar 
Dusting a flat, dry pancake. 

It's as if a giant
Grabbed the world in its monstrous hand
And shook it with bottomless will,
Until the glitter of the stars
Traced their way down to this earth. 

I look down at my paper.
Feb 01
poem 1 comment challenge: Morning
Lilliannn's picture


It is a beautiful morning

and nothing is wrong.

I walk onto the porch,


The cold seeps through my sweatshirt

as I gaze over the blanket of fog covering the lake.

A single fish jumps,

disturbing the still water.

I walk barefoot across the grass,

the dew dampening the bottoms of my pants.

The first fishing boat drifts over the lake,