He kicked off his trainers in defiance
It's warm in here, I will stay.
His home danced its subtle dance
Seducing him with fluttered window panes.

No, darling, mummy said
You will go out there
And face the harsh winds
And the hungry frosts.

Why? You did, mummy
And you have the scars on your beautiful face
Why should I, a handsome boy
Offer my face to the elements?

She sat him down and smiled
Yes, I am weary, the world
Took it's toll, but
The warmth of comfort soon becomes fire

You will stare down the frost and
Let it gnaw all it wants
For that's how dreams are made, my boy
That's how wishes come true

This one, she said, finger on a scar
Was from those summer months
When the grass became the bed
To clumsy, tragic love and I

This one is from your grandmother
When she left me all alone
This one, from my career,
See, it is the deepest.

All of them, all I would have again
For canvas I may be to brutal paint,
But happy I am
That I was painted.

The boy looked up and said
I am a scar on you
She buried him in her eager arms and said
No my dear, you're too soft to leave a scar.

The trainers went on
The boy went outside
And shivered as
His mother watched.