Zecora comes to Ponyville with not
a warning nor a sign. She hides behind
that evil cloak. From spot to other spot
she moves – What is it that she seeks to find?
But this is also true: That when she’s here
what follows next; a wave of plague and curse.
A pony mad, another gone, and we’re
to wonder why Zecora leaves us worse.
She is, no doubt, a vile enchantress mare
who dances in her evil forest hut
while mixing brews of deeply evil fare.
She wants a well-cooked pony in her gut!
She’ll hypnotize you if you laze about,
so if you see her come, you’d best watch out!
But don't expect a polished poem from me!
I'm not a poet, I am not a Gryphius;
To proper rhymes I shall remain oblyffius!
Pronounce it right? It isn't my for-tee.
So I shall wrap this up right now before
It gets more painful — even more, I mean;
And with a whimper, not a bang or roar
This sonnet ends. Yet 'fore you heap on scorn —
Do better! Are you Feeling Pinkie Keen?
Prove to us all that art need not be drawn.