Dear Christine,

Life in Bel Air this year has been horrible.
I might even go so far as to say, it's deplorable.
Every time I want so bad to see you
I must slap my own hand and say, "Stop! I will beat you!"
"If you do not stop this abominable wish
To see someone so far away as Africa... ish...
You will be miserable, take it from me
I've been there, you know, the depths I have seen--
The depths of the pit of Hell and despair."
(Okay, this drama thing is going nowhere)
But alas, through all of my self-reprobation,
I miss you; my heart is one huge conflagration.
It's burning and aching... oh, no, here we go...
Melodrama went out three decades ago.
Regardless, my dear, Christine, my friend,
I miss you a lot. So this poem I send.
My yearning for you is true ever-present;
Without you, it's quite hard to be effervescent.
So come back at your earliest convenience
For I miss you with all of my love and allegiance.


Kathryne