Melt The Ice; Don't let them shatter

“Melt the ice,” my mom would say,
“Treat every being the same way.
Don’t judge or harm or break a heart,
For these things are of evil art.”

I know, I told you ma, I would,
But sometimes its hard to truly be good,
Sometimes a snowflake turns an avalanche,
And that’s what happened upon my branch

My branch, my special place, where only I play,
That tip of a tree on warm summers’ day
An intruder came my way and spied
The way my golden hair was tied.

He loved me, ma, but I didn’t see
That he always waited there for me
He sat by the side of that solid oak
A truly admirable, kindly bloke

But, you see, he seemed a bit off, as it were
Though, he was a kindly sir
And, I froze his heart with my cold farewell
But, he saved my life, ma, that day I fell

He comes no more, and so I pray
I’ll meet with him some other day
I froze his heart with my cruel tongue
The ice shattered; I fell, and he died too young.