In all his days of life,
He never understood
The ways of man or the loving hand
As other people could.
Yes, Donald was half witted.
I’m positive he knew.
He worked all day mining clay.
His nose was all that grew.
I’m sure some thought him useless,
And others thought him slow,
But I thought him a boy with joy,
With happiness aglow.
A purely perfect person,
A jolly joyful gent.
But for his mind, no brain donees
Would give a single a cent.
It really makes one wonder
What goes on in his mind
For if you had that brain of his
You’d gasp at what you’d find
For when God built Don Kinder’s house
And didn’t add the doors,
He added extra windows,
And gave it 7 floors.
To make a point, it might look dumb
To see him from outside,
He loves, you see, and I know he
Is part of heaven’s bride.