Sadly sitting, Cue did mope,
In his hand was his last hope.
A a tiny pony, pink and yellow,
The only friend of this sad fellow.
"Oh Fluttershy," Cue did begin
When with bang, who barged in,
But his Father, dark and dreary,
Of Cue's antics, he'd grown weary.
"Son, what are you doing?"
Father boomed with venom spewing.
"Playing with ponies." The son did confess,
Knowing it would make his father love him less.
But low-and-behold, to his surprise,
Father did not threaten him with demise,
Instead he broke out in a grin,
"Dear son, may I jump in?"
Cue was baffled, he was in shock
For once his Father did not mock.
When his voice he did find,
Cue said he did not mind.
"Of course you may, daddy dearest,
"Pick any pony, why not the one that's nearest?"
So Father picked a pony who ruled the sun,
And Cue could not wait for the fun.
Father gestured to a pony near.
"Son, why not pick this dark one here?"
"You mean Luna?" Cue did ask,
His glee the boy could not mask.
"Yes." Father did bellow,
And laughed just like a hearty fellow.
Cue with eyes filled with tears,
Hoped for bonding after all these years.
But Father did seem to glower,
And Cue tried to hide and cower
You see, Father had different plans,
As he held up Celestia in his hands.
With a smile, he said with glee,
"To the moon I banish thee!"