The Fifth is Feared (Poem one-shot)

The Fifth is Feared

>You are Anonymous.
>And you are tired of this fracas.

>Every day, an agitation.  New squabbles and aggravation.
>Slip your grip on hesitation.  Raise your pinky to the sky.
>Silence golden, none reply.

>You go about your morning walks
>Disturbed by fighting, shrieks, and squawks
>Crusaders whine of blank-spaced docks
>And ask you why, oh why?

>They've used their cunning, been outfoxed
>The beating of internal clocks
>Have lead to many pleas and knocks
>At doors where answers lie.

>They've tested out the cutie pox
>Been smitten by love poison's talks
>Ripped open each Pandora's box
>Sometimes they're even kinky.

>They've spoken of their virgin locks
>Smooth roads of which the hymen blocks
>And cravings of strong human cocks
>To this, you rose your pinky.

>Silence sudden, fillies gone.
>A pleasant day, for Anon.

>At other times, were ponies six
>Who'd trap you like fine mortared bricks
>And put you on the crucifix
>Of "Friendship" you'd deny.

>They'd ask of home, life, and ethics
>Your sharp dress and Earthly relics
>Preference of parties or picnics
>Advances, you'd defy.

>You've had your share of nasty licks
>Your chest was scarred from ugly hits
>But lower did their eyes transfix
>On something, perhaps stinky.

>Each would try their different tactics
>Magics, spastics, gimmicks, fabrics
>Gambits aimed at getting Man sticks
>To this, you rose your pinky.

>Instant quiet, stares of fright.
>The silence, to Anon, delight.

>A scroll was sent by dragon flare
>To Canterlot, and made aware
>The Golden Sun and the Night Mare
>Of Anon's current plight.

>They entered Ponyville's town square
>The Light and Dark upon their hair
>And onto Anon they did stare
>Enraptured by the sight

>Upon their birthrights both did swear
>That they would have Anon the Fair
>And with their magic did ensnare
>Anon, their auras inky

>Odes were given, spoke in prayer
>The patience of Anon did wear
>And when they said your bed they'd share.
>To this, you rose your pinky.

>Alicorns eternal, humbled.
>Desire of deities crumbled.
>Anon walked away and grumbled.
"These mares make me so sick."

"They stoop low and only stumble"
"Fight for me and only fumble"
"Try to make my jimmies jumble"
"They'll never get the dick."

>They say that Discord turned to stone
>Gave up his freedom and his throne
>Rather than face the fifth-placed bone
>Known on Anon's right hand.

>That changelings made their masks undone
>That Manticores fled like children
>That Dragon's from their hoard would run
>Than before the pinky stand.

>Why this digit held such power
>Why it made all creatures cower
>When Anon's mood would turn sour
>No one can truly say

>But if one's fortune were to fall
>To face that finger fifth and small
>He'd have the pity of us all
>And for him we would pray.