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Bela Berg

I like inspirational writing it just gives a rush of emotion and i may not be the best writer but its fun.

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  • 01-01-70
  • Morando em United Kingdom

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Bela Berg
Traduzir   11 anos atrás

Ice Cream Clickity clickity clank. Went the train upon the rail. As Andrew found a small stone that had been launched across the field in his direction. "It must've come from the train" he whispered to himself and he waved goodbye and thanked the tank engine. The stone itself sparkled of a bright blue, yet Andrew could not identify the beautiful object. He thought he ought to take it to a jeweler, but greed set in when he knew the jeweler would take it, if it was worth anything. Instead he ran along home where the grass stopped growing and the air was a gasping fog. His mother was a happy, yet diseased widow. Her mind had developed and illness she could not concur with when her abusive husband had died. Many thought it was the abuse that had run her mad, but she believed it was his death. No one understood Andrew and his mother, for they were both rather odd. When Andrew entered his home he saw his mother sitting in front of a blank wall as usual. "Good day mother." said Andrew casually, but his mother wouldn't even acknowledge him. He ran to his room and hid the rock under the floor boards in a corner where he kept baseball cards that he found on the streets. The next day he went to his prison of failures which they call school. His mother however had noticed the spark which gleamed in her son's pocket the day before. Her sick mind reluctantly urged her body to part with the chair in which she sat. She had found her curiosity again. One by one her feet took a pace towards her son's sanctuary, and she searched for the hope that she had become rich.

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    Bela Berg
    Traduzir   11 anos atrás

    I'm Freezing The snow is falling and I can't see two feet in front of me. As I trudge through the snow I notice a bright light coming towards me. "This is it," I think to myself, "I'm dying." My whole body is numb and I don't have much energy. My eyes droop and I fall to my knees. My hands and feet shake violently, but suddenly they stop. I can feel the beat in my chest slowing. I force open my eyes to see the purple of my skin. My eyes close instantly. I give up. I lay in the snow and my mind falls black. Then there's another light which outlines a face. A familiar face. It's a dream of memories.

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      Bela Berg
      Traduzir   12 anos atrás

      Should I write a book o_O?

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        Bela Berg
        Traduzir   12 anos atrás

        Talking Flowers They're beautiful and at first kind… but they gossip and as rumors spread, they judge you. You are nothing but a weed. They exclude you and ignore you. They think that you are odd. They just need to learn their manners. After all there will always be a red queen no matter what land you come from.

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          Bela Berg
          Traduzir   12 anos atrás

          At The End Of The Day "At the end of the day there's another day dawning and the sun in the morning is waiting to rise. As the waves crash on the sand like a storm that will break any second. There's a hunger in the land and it's us who will have to pay, at the end of the day." - Victor Hugo

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