//-------------------------------------------------------// In a minute -by Countpony- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// all of it. //-------------------------------------------------------// all of it. In a minute There once was a time When life, had no rhyme No reason, to live or to love When down from upstairs To my lair I would go To watch, my favorite show It was called My Little Pony Friendship is Magic And my life compared To it, was tragic I was an only child A social recluse And I was no stranger To emotional abuse That show was my life, My home away from home, And when a new episode was over I always, would groan To say I was tired, Would be the beginning, Mentally drained, Closer to winning, A lifeless husk, Would closer describe, Every night at dusk, Of me when I cried On Saturday morn, When I arose, I made my own breakfast, So as to not impose, Upon my parents, Who were in denial, Of a children’s show, That could make me smile. But that one fateful day, Not long ago, She came to stay, A friend, not foe On the counter, As I poured the milk, I saw a package, Wrapped in silk. Attached with string, And with fancy writing, A knot on this thing, And a secret, confiding Only in me, it said, In the script, Was what I read, And the package I ripped. I open the box, And what did I find, Pink curly locks, And a marked behind. I asked, “Your name?” To the cute little creature. She wanted a game, It was in her nature. So she pointed at me, Or more at my hand, Her little gesture, I didn’t understand. So she reached out her hoof, And suddenly, Unbelievable, without proof, She grabbed my pinky. “Pinky?” I asked. “Is that you names?” And with a shake of her head, She continued the game. Turning around, And her, I couldn’t stop, To the refrigerator, She continued to hop. Opening it up, Without a bit of grief, She looked inside, And sighed with relief. On the bottom shelf, Where the desserts go, She helped herself, To pie, a la mode. “Pinky… Pie?” I asked, With a puzzled frown, As she turned to me, She laughed so hard, And fell upside down, Was all I could see. Her name now stated, I recognized, Why I contemplated, Those familiar eyes. “what are you doing?” I asked, wanting to know, “out here, in this world, Instead of the show?” Hopping out of the fridge, Back onto the floor, She trotted away, Toward the basement door. Pointing a hoof, At the box on the table, She went down the stairs, In a manner, unstable. So I grabbed the box, And the lid beside it, And smiled to myself, Unable to hide it. Since that moment was done, It was decided, That life was now fun. I went down the stairs, And a racket ensued, As that little pony, My lair, reviewed. First she went, To the drum set, And as if she had anger, She needed to vent, She drummed with a passion, With hope and desire, All I could describe with was, “true holy fire.” Then off to my guitar, She bounded, undaunted, And grabbing a pick, Her guitar skills, she flaunted. Playing a solo, I thought not possible, How did her hoofs go, That distance, I wondered, “Was it magic, portals, Or awesomeness?” I pondered. But she stopped suddenly, And that pick did she throw, As that familiar start, Of my favorite show. Came on the screen, But something was gone, Twas a pink filly, To be missed anon. And it came in my head, An idea so small, But scare me it did, As my mood did fall. For I realized at best, Her time was near, Her calling to go back, And leave, from here. She jumped to the floor, And into the screen, But on the other side, She could be seen. I cried on the inside, But smiled outward, As a call could be found, From my parents, upward. “What is that noise?” My mom asked, astounded. “did something happen?” She asked, fears unfounded. “just watching my show” I said to explain “and eating cereal” I answered in vain, As she descended, The stairs, quickly, My stomach, it felt Just a bit sickly She saw where I was, Sitting on the couch, “Fine” she said “Just don’t slouch” She went back upstairs, To the kitchen, my mother, I have to say, She acted like no other, And so I watched my show, With all of its perks, Which made me forget, Real life’s irks. And as the show ended, And the credits played, A familiar pink flash, Off the screen, strayed. And there stood Pinkie, Four hoofs on the ground, And out of her mouth, Came a glorious sound. She spoke to me, saying, “Now that that’s done, I can talk, we can, Have fun!” So I reached down, And picked her up, Removed my frown, And said “sup?” She laughed, And she giggled, Her tail, She wiggled. Saying “listen up, Here’s the deal, I'm here to play, To laugh and squeal, With you my friend, That I have made, And with whom, I have played. Every day, From morn to night, We can have, All the fun in sight. So now I ask, Of you my friend, This special task, That’ll never end. All the time, ‘Cept when the show is on, So that nopony knows, When I am gone” And with a nod, I said yes, The fun to come, I could only guess. “First things first.” I said to her. “do you thirst, Or have hunger?” “I could go, For some more pie, Otherwise, I may die” She said it so, exaggerating, As if the thought was aggravating. Faking a faint to the floor, And then pointing me towards the door. But before setting a foot on the stair, I asked “ what kind?” In reply “I don’t care” So I went up, To the kitchen above, And gave my mother, A hug with love. She asked, “What’s the occasion? For this act, Of loving affection?” “I just wanted to say, Good morning.” I answered, A tear was forming. “I know I'm not the best, And I put you and dad, To the test.” “but now I know, How to win it.’ Gesturing down stairs To that lair of mine “my new found joy, I’ll show you, In a minute.”