Precariously Placed Pony Poems Picturing Plenty of Pheelings

Lyra was done with ponies
She doesn't like phonies
Compliments to your face
turn yoru back, insults replace

Others said to ignore the hate
But it was already too late
Words stung deep
Into her soul they would seep

Lyra avoided society
It filled her with anxiety
Maybe it was better this way
Her emotions would never sway

No more negatives
From two faced narratives
She could be reclusive
Her life becoming exclusive

Life would be better
free from social fetter
Shed be happy at most
To be a social ghost