Writing Forums

Writing Forums is a privately-owned, community managed writing environment. We provide an unlimited opportunity for writers and poets of all abilities, to share their work and communicate with other writers and creative artists. We offer an experience that is safe, welcoming and friendly, regardless of your level of participation, knowledge or skill. There are several opportunities for writers to exchange tips, engage in discussions about techniques, and grow in your craft. You can also participate in forum competitions that are exciting and helpful in building your skill level. There's so much more for you to explore!


  1. TripleFade

    Hail Casesar (horror/ some language)

    (edited for language) Hail Caesar The hotel was dingy, cheap and right off the highway. It’s decades-long dirge was the din of car tires on asphalt, and the ragged homeless shuffling across the parking lot. A metal “Long Stay” sign hung above the door, pock-marked, streaked with rust and the...
  2. R

    Die Dreaming

    I somewhat recently purchased a course on the website Udemy taught by a Nashville songwriter and wrote this song in about an hour and a half after completing the course. I am 30 years old and have a nervous disorder (disorder of the nerves, not 'nervous' as in anxious or apprehensive) that has...
  3. kbsmith

    Abysmal Hands of Silver (650words)

    He sits apart from himself, beside his feelings. On the table opposite him, a swan clock carved of wood. Upon its wings, silver hands tick away the time, tick by tock of it flies further into future. He knows the world will end, but not how. He knows his life is over, but still it strives to...
  4. gokedik

    Dominoes in the Sand

    Part 1 of an adult journey His breath was lost, his knees were weak and he knew that he would never be the same again. She only said two words, “Bye, Dillon.” And she was gone before he knew what happened. He didn’t catch his oversight until it was too late. When he did, all the times she spoke...
  5. D

    The Old Man in the Corner

    The Old Man in the Corner How well I remember as I’m slumped in my chair: Be’reft of movement, bereft of hair. My bodily odors might foul the air I’m sorry, you see I’m not offered care. My existence seems pointless as day after day Droplet by droplet my life seeps way. But deep in this husk...