Before you were in puberty, you had a wish quite strong.
That you could not abide replies that said that it was wrong.
The wish was simply this—a pony, just your very own.
You often pleaded for it—but replies were set in stone.
Adulthood came, and with it came a succinct plea for love.
But what you could not understand were answers from above.
You also did not understand how those around you fared,
Or seemed to fare, quite happily, to which you were compared.
Fast forward to today; how would you now describe your lot,
Recalling wishes for which you so arduously had fought?
You now know life is never simple; hard, sometimes, to face.
You also know there has to be a pony here someplace!
© Richard Williams