The ice was strong and steady still,
Until the heat arrived before it will.
It slowly melted, water formed,
Its surface cracked and became torn.
No one wanted the shattered ice,
For it no longer looked as nice.
They cast it out and watched it fade,
No longer worthy - or so they claimed.
They could have saved it in the cold,
Though changed in shape,
it’d form a new mold.
But no one tried to save what remained,
For before it was ice, it first was rain.
