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Brenda Kay Winters
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Editor Man
Dear Mister Editor Man,
I am writing this letter the best I can.
Don't want to make more ememies,
Putting ink on paper so I can go free.
When I read the editorial page yesterday,
I laughed until I cried,at some ridiculous lady's rage.
A woman who said her name was Smith,
Had her yard decoram stolen, was it a neighbor's rage?
The one thing that suprized me so much,
Was the plastic Santa she loved ,oh hush.
A blow up doll she loved to touch,
paid alot for him,was this her crutch?
How sad and miserable she must be,
Now that some other woman is loving her Sante.
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Her Mary and Joseph are also gone.
Someone took them out of her yard while singing a song.
She wrote you a letter about her fantasy,
Would that thief just return her stuff,
Then let her be?
I was happy not to be attached,
to that blow up doll,to me it was trash.
I wonder if it would make her happy,
To have her picture made with old Sante?
She could just sit on his lap for awhile.
Maybe then she could get back her smile.
Mister editor man, I do not understand.
Why a woman such as this would not perfer a real man.
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