Poems from a Purple Pony

Heartstrings weak and few

Resting unused, never used

They crumble with time.

Heartstrings strong and new,

Throbbing heartily, plucked too,

The things ponies do.

Heartstrings strung for her,

Never cease their playful dance.

She puts them in trance.

Pinkamena Pie,

The mare of parties, and more...

Commander of Amour.

Heartstrings plucked, renewed,

With just the simple words used:

"I love you, Twilight."