#mrwriter

[yafavauthor]

Lost In The Streets: The Beginning Out now‼️💪🏾📚🖊️ #ebook #amazon #yafavauthor #l3publications #mrwriter (at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania) https://www.instagram.com/p/CPy-OKEB9zO/?utm_medium=tumblr

[yafavauthor]

L3 Publications Presents Lost In The Streets: The Beginning Available Now‼️#repost #l3publications #l3pub #mrwriter #blackstories #yafavauthor (at Norristown, Pennsylvania) https://www.instagram.com/p/CMKSPl_B775/?igshid=xd9c4o02pzlf

[raghav1374fr]

- एकांत - हम अपने एकांत में इतना आराम पा चुके हैं, कि अब उसमें किसी को हिस्सा देने का खयाल अक़्सर हमें डरा देता है, हम अपने खालीपन को बांटने से भी घबरा जाते हैं, ये जो चुप्पी हमनें ओढ़ रक्खी है ये सरगम सी हो गयी है और बोलियां हमें शोर लग रही हैं। . और ये यार, सही नहीं जा रहे हम। शायद /- सही भी। . . . . . . . #mrwriter 🖋️ . . . . #keepcalm #StaybyMyside #foryou #stayhome #staysafe #pyarfr #rsr #constantine #keepwriting #coronainindia #LifebuoyKarona #washyourhands #respectwomen #protectfamily #protecturself #lonliness #ekant #kashi #se #kashmir #kashmiri #pen #assam #assamies #green #towel #stranger (at Gorakhnath Temple. Gorakhpur.) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-ZrH8jHoXN/?igshid=12frikn0vqoot

[chrismas-81]

A snippet of an #acousticcover of #mrwriter, a song recorded 20years but seems very apt after the events of this weekend. #ripcarolineflack #stereophonics #kellyjones #guitarcover #indie #rock #soul #britpop #guitar #acoustic #musician #singer #songwriter #chrismassoncreates #glasgowartist #coverversion #voxbattle #instasinger #singersofinstagram #60secondcover #theopenmicapp #whatsmusicde #bestindiecovers #blueeyedsoul #unplugged #artistsoninstagram #grunge #mod https://www.instagram.com/p/B8rdI3rBL9H/?igshid=1fg7kxiszedfx

[foreversilver]

Visit Original Link

[zombi3zz-jp-blog]

"Mr. Writer" You line them up Look at your shoes You hang names on your wall Then you shoot them all You fly around in planes That bring you down To meet me who loves you, like Me crashing to the ground Are you so lonely? Don't even know me But you'd like to stone me Mr Writer, why don't you tell it like it is? Why don't you tell it like it really is? Before you go on home I used to treat you right Give you my time But when I'd turn my back on you Then you do what you do You've just enough, in my own view Education to perform I'd like to shoot you all And then you go home With you on your own What do you really know? Mr Writer, why don't you tell it like it is? Why don't you tell it like it really is? Before you go on home And then you go home With you on your own What do you even know? Mr Writer, why don't you tell it like it is? Why don't you tell it like it really is? Before you go on home Mr Writer, why don't you tell it like it is? Why don't you tell it like it always is? Before you go on home Mr Writer, why don't you tell it like it really is? Why don't you tell it like it always is? Before you go on home

[mrwriter101-blog]

The chronicles of the desperate man-Part 2

Part 2: Death’s Funeral

The funeral commences, death is lowered into the ground,

not a teary eye , or bellowing sound.

the man is free to capture his desires,

to rid his life of the pretenders and liars.

To right what was wrong and win back his wife,

 change the tarnished memories that plagued his life.

He talks in his sleep shouting her name,

hoping she would return, his efforts it vein

To loose everything your heart ever desired

her beautiful looks you  once admired

 he’s remains and old man with  an eternity to live for, 

now that death wont be knocking at his door,

he must say sorry to the wife he betrayed,

for the gambling, the boozing,the vices he paid.

He looks at the gravestone and begins to read

whilst basking in the triumph of his sinful deed

panic suddenly engulfs his mind

upon the shock discovery of his latest find

he turns around runs fast with a quickening breath,

with the knowledge that the tomb read “the second coming of death”

[mrwriter101-blog]

The truth of Man

A  free spirit is one that writes,

then why am i.

A mind that feels dazed but trys to remain direct.

Poisoned by media flu, but hes

a man with too many problems,

and not enough answers.

Time will tell, 

yet the clock is fluctuating, stalling perhaps.

You can tell alot from who a man aspires to be, 

      Too much.

For his mind trapped in a ceaselss conundrum 

Does he sacrifcie his intellect his control , 

for the cages of aspiring to be the other man to appease his better half.

The man society will have shapened , strangelled,

force fed its ideology, its power makes 

him inferior it encases his mind leaving

it shattered, so constantly tired.

The work will never end for the clocking, clock out 9-5er.

To maintain stability to impress the women , 

gone is his right for free expression,

his mind decays at the hands of the revolution.

But he loves her so , truely she is worth the sacrifice,

hes willing to lay his life at her feet, 

is it the woman’s fault or his, for this problem.

Time quickens for the last,

the bells stop,

he sits reciting his poem of youth,

shes not listening , her musics loud,

then his heart stops,

The job lasted to long , but now its done.