Musings of the Adult in the Child, bout four

Take from me what you will.
Take until, you've had your fill.
Take all i can spill, 'till
I have nothing left to fill
anything, including me.
Ah, just leave me empty.
I'm sure your happy.
I'm happy too,
for you.
ooooh, but boo,
it's not about me,
it's about you.