I read a story the other day.
It was about an earth pony,
Her coltfriend was a pegasus.
Every time she kissed him,
She asked what it was like to fly.
Every time he said
It was like kissing her.
I watch my friends fly, soar, dive.
The other pegasi always say
That they love the sky.
They way I am supposed to.
My love isn’t wind under my wings.
It’s little chicks beneath them,
Like a hen.
My love is when a dog brings her puppies
And lays them at my side.