Get Some

This is the misty, stripped-down version of my soul. Enjoy. Lap it up. Get a ring side seat and some popcorn. Extra butter, you declare? Fine. Don't ever discount me, because I will never give you a free ride either. It will be a long, drawn (like butter) out affair And it will end with one of us Crying. Hopefully you. Maybe me. Sometimes tears appear, but they are The gift that keeps on taking... on new life forms. I will rake your soul and find fresh soil In which to plant my seeds of a past and current life lived to the hilt. Put some butter on that.