Thin blades creasing on fragile stone

The water is so delicatly froze

Cuts and spins, round and round

The ice provides, without a sound

It holds up strong despite the faint scars

That seem so fresh and new to its heart

It invites others to step on it everytime

Because their heart is too big, and little is their mind

It’s their pleasure to push people and let them glide

Right over them, as they sit and hide

Watching from the cave below

As the very being they helped, forgets them under the snow

They give a warm drink along the way

And watch them leave without pay

Too scared of fate to speak up and say

And just watch, watch everyone run away

A doormat, the floor, the ice they all trust

Sits there while they glide, testing their luck

Beautiful spins and twirls, always a must

But what about the ice, undertneath such bustle?

Is it left there forever, a constant muscle?