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// I'm Lonely 
// Story: Dear Princess Luna 
// by MelodyScribe 
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	Dear Princess Luna

Lately I've felt the loneliness at the back of my neck. Sometimes I'll catch one or more of my classmates staring at me. Curious stares, almost pitying, instead of the hateful glares Glittering Gold and Shining Silver give me. Their parents own half of Ponyville, and I once heard their mother is as bad as they are. 
I also heard of a princess that lives in the large crystal castle at the edge of Ponyville. I've never seen her, because my foster parents decided it was a good idea to keep me inside every afternoon and every evening, to avoid being seen with me.  They say it's for my own protection, that there are dangerous things in the world. I believe that there are, my mother once told me about the dangers of wandering Manehatten on my own, especially with my leg, so I can understand why they don't let me out in the evening. I think they are just embarrassed to have me, a crippled pony unable to walk very far on her own without any kind of assistance. Ponyville is so much friendlier than Manehatten, aside from Silver and Gold's family. Believe me, I try not to hate anypony, I've never actually hated anypony in my entire life! I just disliked my classmates back in Manehatten, and I dislike Glittering Gold and Shining Silver. The only reason I haven't done anything to get back at them was because I know Mother wouldn't want me to. 
Speaking of Mother, I had a dream about her last night. She and I where standing on the edge of a cliff. My mother was a pegasus, so sometimes she would have me climb on her back and take me for a ride in the sky. That's what we did in the dream. I remember her golden yellow colt and her deep red mane. She was so pretty, and so kind. I'm not pretty, not with my matted yellow coat and orange mane. 
Sometimes I wish I could trade my horn for a pair of wings, just so I could feel the wind in my mane again, but that would mean I wouldn't be able to send you these letters, now would it?
Frankly, I prefer keeping my memories of my mother close to my heart then try to relive them, it just makes them that much more special, and even if I could relive them, that would mean my mother lived for nothing, now wouldn't it?
Even with my memories, though, I still feel that pang of loneliness for missing my mother, and my father. (The version before my mother got sick.) 
Actually, my foster sister, Moon Prism, found me writing a poem in my room. She tried to snatch it out from my desk, but I was able to pull it away from her before she snatched it. She teased me and said that whatever I was writing, it wasn't worth it and that I should go back to where I came from. I just responded by saying that I was perfectly happy with where I was. She didn't have a comeback, so she left. Of, course, I wasn't "perfectly happy" with where I was, but there wasn't much I could do about it. I was writing a poem for you. I admire your moon and stars more than anything, so I was writing about it. Poetry has always been a secret sanctuary for me. Only my mother knew about it, and now you do too. I always kept my poems hidden and private, because I was always afraid that someone would make fun of them. I always keep them in a small mahogany box that my granny gave me. Actually, here's one I wrote for my mother:

Why do ponies say time goes so fast?
When you are not only waiting for a time to pass,
But for the pony I wait for when that time is done.
And yet.
It may not seem like a lot of time.
But it becomes so long when it's the length of time you are forced to wait for your mother's love once again. 
And time feels like the letters I wrote to her.
Having only her voice in my head,
Rather than her voice guiding me through life's troubles,
Having to reach out and touch only a memory instead of a warm face.
But that love just isn't the same.
I can't be content with my mother's face in my head.
But I will never be able to hold her close to me again.
A filly can't stand not being able to wrap her hooves around her mother dearest.
The pony who means the most to us in our lives.
The difference between a mother being away and a mother next to her filly,
Is that her mother can't wipe away your tears when she's miles away.
I can't be content with my mother being reduced to an image in my head.
When she could be wrapping her hooves around her filly as she cries out "mother come back"
Because that can never happen,
Never again.
Because the worst pain a filly can have,
Is knowing her mother can never return.

The reason it's written the way it is is because I started writing it when my mother was sick. I would read her letters I wrote, hoping she would respond in some way. I only finished it recently, after she died. 

Your friend,
Citrine