Treading On Thin Ice

Here’s a poem I wrote in 6th grade when I said something mean to a friend. You have to be a “metaphoric person” to understand this poem.

I’m treading on thin ice.
It starts to quickly crack.
My feet are now trembling,
And I wish I could go back.
I made the ice upset,
Upon it I had lit a flame.
The hottest blaze I’d ever lit,
Now nothing is the same.
I feel fear and guilt and sadness,
And regret all around.
I wish I could escape this pain,
But to this spot I am bound.
I say the special, magic word,
And then carefully explain.
The ice seems to listen,
As if it doesn’t feel any more pain.
The ice shakes again,
I believe that it has chosen.
I close my eyes and hope.
I look down.
The ice has frozen.