Author:
Juno (You-No Pronouced FYI)
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Date Posted: 07:11:18 10/14/02 Mon
In reply to:
Andy's Planet
's message, "OH, ANDY...." on 17:49:04 10/13/02 Sun
>
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>Andy's
>Planet is no more.
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Somedays
> I sit staring out the window, watching the world pass
>me by.
>Sometimes I think theres nothing to live for,
>I almost break down and cry.
>But then I see my baby, suddenly Im not crazy.
>
It all makes sense when I look into her eyes.
>If I could sing, Id keep singin this song to my
>daughter.
If I could hit the notses Id blow
>something as long as my father.
To show her how
>proud I am that I got her.
God, Im a daddy, Im so
>glad her mom didnt.
Now you probably get this
>picture from my public persona that ima pistol packin
>drug addict who bags on his momma
But I wanna to
>just take this time out to be perfectly honest, cuz
>theres a lot of shit I keep bottled up that hurts deep
>inside.
I got my baby, baby the only lady that I
>adore.
So sau
>yonara, try tommorrow, nice to know ya.
Our baby s
>traveled back to the arms of her rightful
>owner.
And suddenly the weight has been
>lifted......
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>
Erupting from a shadowed horizon, a flash of
>stygian and char, mottled crisply upon the outer layer
>of a bold phantom. What nightmares were made of; an
>alysum grit brazen with the dexterious humanities of
>bittersweet passion and nefariousness. Unexpectant of
>any immediate of ameliorant, malicious alumna lances
>forth across the ashen plantation; chizeled maw,
>etched with stealth-like reformity of Arabic lineage,
>immediatly searches for the hierarchy. Alma mater
>located far away, the banshee still wished for return.
> Though I wouldnt expect a lagniappe this time
>around. Plyable physique lances forth with undaunting
>agility, taut muscles acting puppeteer for the
>mesmorizing vagabond. At last and long awaited, ashen
>labyrums of the femmora parting with an echo of
>soprano harpsicord; a mocking, eerie melody shrieking
>inside flicking radars. She knew, all too well, that
>her dear mother had come to pass....she knew as well,
>that one attempted to take her place.
>
>
No, baby. Not on my watch.
>
>
The angels weaping tears of blood, sweat and
>flesh, the mesmorizing transparancy lay in grit before
>the others. Allegorical, mystical, and ever deadly,
>not the innocent foal that had befallen on them, no.
>She was different, scarred and broken, battered and
>lost, but yet she still returned for more....
>
>
Dad. Andy. Who's
>the broad. Juno? Juni? A bit peculiar, pop.
>
>
An unspoken snarl crossed the lips of the now
>nefarious. Shits' been done, lives been shattered,
>and she had meerely returned to pick up the pieces.
>It was time to loose the malicia and return to the
>life of a light. Erecting a reformed maw, the painted
>translucent speaks again.
>
>
DegÜello died, Andy.
>Perhaps if you had been around, around for me, around
>for Deggy, around for Juni, our mother....
>
>
The words were spit into dust as the angel weeped
>upon the groud, the lavish winter soaking any drop of
>salted warmth as the equine blurted in a furious anger
>and bitter resentment.
>
>
She wilted away as a rose.
>Every day, waiting like a dog for you. A dog awaiting
>his master at the door, with anxious eyes steadily
>loosing hope. Is that what you saw us as? Is that
>how you saw flower, too? A DOG...
>
>
The painted mug draws abrupt. Guilt would not
>solve any problem here. Re-evaluating a long planned
>speech, the femmora continues with a more placid
>expression.
>
>
Im back now. Im here to
>stay.
>
>
.:A bit of forewarning.:.
>
.:Ive changed:. |
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>face=verdana size=1>.Your baby's home. But
>not for you.
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