Unicorns for the Underprivileged

In downtown’s grimy charity shops,
Where dreams go stale and hope just flops,
They’re handing out discount unicorns —
Some missing horns, some missing morns.

Second-hand sparkles, factory-reject glitter,
These magical beasts have seen days bitter.
Their rainbow manes are slightly gray,
“Slightly used,” the price tags say.

One trades food stamps for fairy dust,
While another’s horn shows signs of rust.
“Get your budget magic here!
Only slight existential fear!”

The middle class rides premium steeds,
While these poor beasts eat discount feeds.
Their wings are clipped by capitalism,
Their dreams constrained by classist schism.

In parking lots behind Dollar Tree,
These unicorns prance sarcastically,
Offering rides for pocket change,
Their magic somewhat out of range.

So next time you see shooting stars,
Remember those behind welfare bars —
The unicorns who’ve lost their shine,
Standing in the welfare line.

Tax-deductible enchantment plans!
Magic rationed in recycled cans!
Welcome to the fairy tale divide,
Where even dreams are stratified.