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Writing Supplies

The Underdog Writers' Corner is a space to publish creative work. We do not edit or change submissions, they are published just as the writer intended.



Elliott Earnshaw


This is just the beginning.

The beginning; of the end.

The start of the simulation,

for which there is no mend.

no me no you no us

just it

Pixels on a screen

waves in the air

‘connecting’ me to you

but are you even there?


Is a face on the screen

A voice in my head.

Eyes, all pixelated,

In this fortress of dread.

The touch of a lady

This longing for fear

No more trepidation

Nobody near

But oh the things you can do

When you adopt this new tool:

“I think I’ll pass”.

Don’t be a fool!

                                                                                         Battery low

Zoom through a planetary spiderweb.

Zoom on through cyberspace;

through hills, brooks, and groves.

They do not exist:

soon, they too shall dissolve

Like our very own selves,

we perish and burn.

But better to die,

than it is to yearn.

                                                                                         Battery low

My eyes are dim, I cannot see,

I have not brought my specs with me!

I have not brought my specs with me!

                                                                                         Poor internet connection

                                                                                         Run network diagnostics

A prison of glass.

A sentry of sound.

A wall of electricity.

Not a soul to be found.

                                                                                         Battery low

There is no escaping

This cyberworld,

This online bubble

Floating away into nothingness

The outside world just a stone’s throw away.

The world of the screen;

a magic act like no other.

We’re at the end of the show

So goodbye for now brother

‘til we meet again

                                                                                         Power OFF


Modern Romance

Christina Friars

What if I learned love wrong?

What if this planet –

where so many hearts are similar

where so many faces are the same –

is moving too hastily?

What if there was nothing but time

to be ourselves and nothing more,

to find beauty in the stillness

and the soft lull of the night

When I meet others like me

I recognise the longing,         

the yearning,

the memory of ash on their faces

I miss the energy,

the laughter,

the feeling of hot sun on the skin

I miss the girls who held stars in their chests

their every word dripping moonlight,

the boys that were born from fire

with voices that lit up the room

Too many stories and faces and people

that I will never know

and never love

Reduced to nothingness

as we are seen and not heard

listened to but not understood

I tell myself I am used to being lonely –

but to forever be a stranger,

to be lost in this technological abyss

of switched off cameras

of muted microphones

is a strange and tantalising grief


The future is here.

Netra Hankins

The launch

Who will believe my verse in times to come,

If my windows view were planets and stars,

Where the horizon is only a figment of the imagination,

And limits expand to infinity

Breaking the atmosphere

It’s important to know your crew members.

Which is hard when you can’t escape the white bubble cage;

Fused with your skin like a turtle in his shell – you don’t exist without it.

But it connects you to thousands more;

            Within protected, airlocked homes;

                        Lazy yet filled with longing;

                                    Orbiting in a web of flickering lights.

The separation

In space everyone is mute.

If you focus your eyes gently, and peer through the helmet screens,

You can see lips – Moving –

Forming alien shapes,

Perhaps in an alien tongue,

Yet I hear nothing.

All my life I’ve been taught that words are rocket ships;

Launching into space with so much power.

Igniting –


But what use are rockets when they take away your fuel?

The journey

Every now and then, we pass by foreign planets,

Patterned with storms of indifference and swirling gas,

Enveloped by magnificent rings barely held together by obligation.

If we are lucky enough, we get to venture and visit.

I watch my crew members break out into smaller groups,

And float down onto different planets,

Eager to explore,

Nervous about the unknown.

But just as we begin to orientate ourselves,

And the planet begins to feel familiar,

We are called back.

I gaze among my crew members before leaving,

Wondering whether they will remember this like I will. 

The Landing

Suddenly, the planets fade to faces on a screen,

And gravity pulls the weight of the world back onto my shoulders,

My tutorial is over.

A wave of white noise erupts,


And “Thank you!” they say.

The faces blink out of existence like stars in the night sky,

All that is left is a blank screen.

The future has never felt so lonely.