A poem for Maud Pie

Nopony cares if we are together,

But me and my rocks, we are forever.

Rocks are a pleasure.

Rocks are my treasure.

Rocks are like jewels to me, shining before my eyes.

Rocks, they never fail to appeal to me, they are a prize.

Why do I study, why do it so much?

I study because I love rocks and such.

It isn't the hardness that makes them appealing,

Not the grey colour either.

Just the fact that the rocks are so stealing,

Of my mind and all my thoughts.

I start to think, start to muse,

Is it my sanity I may lose?

Is all this thinking a dangerous risk,

That rocks will take it away, very brisk?

There could be a connection, anywhere in the universe, relating you and me.

And if there is, it stays that way, the way it should be.

Rocks might not be special, in fact they're quite dull.

But I might be too, here in my bedroom, sitting still.

I have three sisters, one is quite hyper,

Two of them are twins, but still in diapers.

Rocks come at a tie with my sisters,

What matters the most?

Rocks, or the misters?

Misters of the house of course,

And the boy next door.

Both dull and bland, but I am even more.

Though I love the boy, the boy next door.

I don't have much, do I?

I let things go with a sigh.

Nothing matters much now,

Now that my mother's died.

I convince myself that she never listened to me,

And that made her seem cruel.

But she isn't cruel at all.

Each morning she would wake us all up, and we ate some gruel.

And now my life is at a time of sobbing, life at a horrible stall.

I miss those mornings so much, now, they are a disgrace,

For I would give anything, just to see my mother's face.

I started talking to the the boy next door,

He seems so sweet and kind.

But he laughed at me when I said I liked rocks,

So I went home in tears, just in time for dinner to be dined.

Three whole years till my mother's death

And also my father's left.

My little sister cheers me up,

Never failing to bring me joy and luck.

I still love rocks, more than ever,

Love them, like them, whatever the weather.

I don't care what the boy said,

It only made me more determined anyway.

I discoved some rock, and made a candy,

And to taste it I called on Pinkie.

I showed her how to make it into neckwear,

And she made me one, made with love and care.

I'm 18 now, such an age.

My story has went on, page by page.

One last visit to my treasured sibling,

Then I'm off to study rocks full time.

Makes me happy to know that Pinkie has good friends,

But I have my rocks till the bitter end.

Nopony cares if we are together,

But me and my rocks, we are forever.