Precariously Placed Pony Poems Picturing Plenty of Pheelings

Scootaloo sat under a Tree
She was finally free
Ponyville was long gone
Her thoughts slowed as she drug on

Would she be missed?
As she moved through the mist
Would Twilight even look?
Or was she stuck in her book?

The air was getting icy
Things were looking dicey
Did she make the right decision?
This was a bad position

Scootaloo was cold
She broke from the blanket folds
She tried to run back
But landed in a snowpack

Snow covered her fur
Her words began to slur
She felt so tired
It looks like her plan backfired