Everypony thinks that I know it all,
But I feel like I need a new teacher.
For though I know statistics great and small,
I cannot figure out how to reach her.
I cannot break through the shell that she's made,
And I know she cannot break through my own.
I want to touch her soul; my hoof is stayed,
And I spend another night all alone.
I'm desperate to hold the heart that she hides,
And longing to kiss those soft yellow lips.
I want to admire what she has inside,
And to catch her, if one day she should slip.
The friend who I love, the friend who is kind,
Has pale pink tresses that she hides behind.