All The Pretty Ponies Poem by angel lockheart

Graceful creatures frozen for eternity in mid-jump,
Their silhouettes in front of silver reflections of stark reality,
Only the brightest paints are caressed onto their plastic, flawless bodies,
Yet for all the splendor put into these divine creatures;
Their eyes are empty,
Just as the seat where every rider is supposed to be-
Except one.
On the lone back of a single figure,
A girl is sitting-
She can’t get off.
Below her where every other animal’s colors are vibrant,
Her body has rubbed away the false paint,
Leaving only the white plastic behind,
And the golden bar that her hands limply cling to;
Is stained with salted tears,
Her body jerking wearily,
To the choppy motion of the machine.
This girl:
She doesn’t dismount this nightmare;
(This ceaseless rotation of pain)
Because she has not found out how.
She does not know that the only way to get free,
Is for the world to start taking on burdens;
And stop blaming her.