Shadows of a life, past the ore piles,
vaguely knowing the world beyond this place.
Prefab homes tended with pride,
struggling to maintain some semblance,
of life as shown on television and magazines.
Snowmobiles and quads decorate lawns,
chasing a dream they have never seen,
but often hear off in the future.
Digging dirt for dollars, worn out before their time,
at day’s end the cafeteria, speaks of junior high school,
relived every day, a place left years ago as boys.
These men who can never graduate beyond,
mere shadows who never had a chance.