Oh, fellow ponies, heed my word
Before your brain becomes disturbed
Tentabus named Muse is on the loose
By hearing a song, you’re in its noose
I have already succumbed to this effect
But you can still escape its magical dialect
Ponies don’t sing, we never did
If you hear a song you’re in its grid
The songs are memes, they propagate
They hijack your brain to variate
You’re not a victim, you’re the cause
By singing you become its jaws
If this threat is not contained
A delirium for ponykind will be ordained
Ponies will randomly burst into a song
Without suspecting something’s wrong
It’s too late for me, I’ve heard too much
But you can still escape its clutch
Run away if you hear a pony sing
Or else Muse will catch you in its string
This letter is the last act of my occupation
Before forcing myself into self-isolation
Don’t look for me ever
Yours Clover the Clever