Precariously Placed Pony Poems Picturing Plenty of Pheelings

Rarity sat in her shop
She stared out the window
She watched the raindrop
While she sat on her pillow

Rarity needed to make dresses
She hasn't paid the bills
The local news ran their presses
"Carousel Boutique closes their tills"

The love for the craft was gone
It brought no excitement to her
Not the linen, satin, or rayon
Nor the silk, wool, or polyester

The motivation was missing
The love for fabrics disappeared
Rarity was reminiscing
Of a time the future was un-feared