YWP Content Published in Newspapers

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

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Aug 13

rain from the perspective of a five year old

Today it rained again,
For the third time this week.
"Isn't it strange that it's been raining a lot?" my mom asks.
I don't respond.
I watch the rain hit the window,
Drops coalescing and rolling down so effortlessly.
I would go outside and stand away from the trees,
Letting it mess up my already unkempt hair
But it’s salty.
It stings my skin a little.
So I watch as it fills up the bucket I’ve left outside yesterday.
Soon it’s overflowing as the rain comes down stronger
Beating on the grass, weeds, flowers, shrubs
Sweeping away the debris into the sewers.
Water gushes out over the brim of the bucket on all sides
In a way, it’s cathartic. Some hate the rain, but I would rather wait.
"Take your time," I say. We're only separated by a pane of glass.
I look out as high as I can,
Past the tall trees in the distance towards the clouds, sitting in their usual spots.
Aug 10

49 flames.

It is sometimes that i realize how much 

I love him

Like when I am supposed to be 


But instead i am lying awake listening

To him bustle about 

The kitchen underneath 


And i catch 

A small smile 

Tugging at me 

As he hums—

albeit off key—

a tune that i once sung to him. 

Or when i am in the car and 

I can feel his voice vibrating in

The leather seats as 

We swerve down the road. 

(his hands never were steady.) 

it comes to me when i embrace him, 

inhaling the smell of coffee beans and lost sleep lingering on his cotton shirt. 

It’s when i daydream of when i used to beg to ride on his shoulders, and when i cry silently when he seems lost in his own 



Aug 09


 I had a necklace once,
a key that never opened anything.
A soft white heart string
tied around my neck.  
Then there was the ocean
and the sudden idea that keys belonged
more to it than to me.
The waves were waiting.
Stomach pressed to splintering boards
reaching for the small string on my neck,
twisting over damp hair,
slipping through silent fingers.
Now, even if there was a door to a long lost room
or a chest full of somebody else’s dreams
I will never open it.
And there is a piece of me sinking
to the bottom of that ocean,
a slice of my existence,
a reminder that somewhere out there,
I’m still waiting for a chance to float.

Aug 08
Larrylovscats's picture

wondering and remembering

when I see a new friend, I wonder how long I will know them for. I wonder if I will remember them. if their smiles will be in my mind and their laughter will echo in my ears. if I will look back at the times when we splashed in the river. in the lake. in the pool. water droplets flying. if I will look back and see the sleepovers we had. giggling. hiding. laughing. if I will remember the secrets we kept. crushes. jealously, hatred. and those whispers in ears about each other. if I will remember the long stories we told around a big fire, marshmallows, and chocolate plastered onto our faces. if I will remember the eye rolls and looks of demise and plotting we exchanged about the most horrid teachers, and how we could defeat them. if I will remember the whispers about the latest fashions, and if the newest clothing trend looked nice on us. if I will remember our last fight. the crying. the sobbing.
Aug 08
poem 0 comments challenge: Three

Moonlight Skin

Your moonlight skin
cries along with 
the silver sky.
Aug 08

A Celestial Body of My Own

He told me to stop being an atheist.
He acted as if my tortured soul
couldn't be salvaged
unless I repented
and believed wholly in something larger.
He looked at me with sad eyes
and begged me to believe
with my broken hands in his.
I remember turning away.

It's not that I was worthless,
I just found it hard to bring myself
to give credit to something else out there.
My successes were mine to claim,
to flaunt and love.
My failures were mine to accept,
to acknowledge and internalize.
I refused to credit something else
with my own growth and progress.

I broke open my ribs,
split them clean in half at the sternum
and scooped out every last piece of me
with open hands.
He only realized what I truly meant
when I showed him my bare beating heart.
I remember him turning away.

I didn't know how to love myself,
Aug 07
abbiemm19's picture

Silent Keys

Aug 06
earleyg's picture


I'm a cryer. I'm just gonna get it out of the way. It's said that on average, women cry twice a month and men once a month, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that those numbers don't apply to me. I used to always think that in the seconds after something drastic happens, you have a choice; cry or hold it in. A few times, I surrendered to twin waterfalls on my face, and other times, I let a stone expression mask my inner feelings. It feels good to let loose sometimes, to just unleash pent-up emotions, some you may not even know you had. It's a way of deeply expressing yourself, putting clear visuals center stage and letting the waterworks take you down the river. Of course, it depends on the severity of the cause that will affect the level of reaction. Had a rough day? Shed a tear. Had a small fight? Hyperventilate. Was just at the wrong place at the wrong time? Suck it up! Had the worst day of your life and wish you could change what you did?
Aug 06
H20.hollym's picture


on a wire
i'm perched
in this parking lot,
the air molecules
so empty
and the silence 
so sickening-
with only
time falls ill
the minutes
the wire
in the space
where one
for another.

Aug 03

When Everything Left

It was sunny the morning everything left. 
The birds in the trees,
ripples on the water,
and you in your shaft of light,
eyes closed,
dust in your short, dark hair. 

We were happy,
I would have it forever. 

And then, you left. 
Quiet steps down the walk 
and a train ticket in a worn-out
overall pocket. 

And you wrote me 
but me but I never did the same.

Because who leaves without saying goodbye
(except the sun, maybe)?
And who forgets to close the door
on the way out
(except when you’re in such a big hurry

you forget who you’re leaving)? 

Don't you remember who
we were together?