My Pony's eyes never stay in place;
One looks up, the other moves around;
Her mind's always up in space;
Wherever she goes, broken things are abound.
Muffins might be all she ever eats;
For Winter Wrap-Up, she can't read a compass;
Only good at removing twigs from trees;
Bubbles for a cutie-mark—is there a purpose?
For those whose mail she loses; she causes strife;
And processing might take a while.
Yet few others have such love for life;
And to your face, she'll bring a smile;
I grant I've seen many a loving mother;
But one like Derpy—there is no other.