An iced train sitting on a rusted track,
the inside fogged with discarded air.
Passengers sit and stare,
with blank expressions and empty hands.
I grasp the door handle,
but it will not open,
and I am afraid I will pull too hard.
A fire arises in my cheeks,
pink and rosey in their pout.
A wave of confidence surges through my deathly cold hands.
I must push forward.
I must escape or drive this train forward.
But what is one to do when stuck in ice?
I must wait for my shell to melt.
Cool drops of water,
slowly unraveling my cocoon.
I will emerge powerful.
I will save myself from harm.